Gossip Across Generations
by HappyTerrier
Summary: Lily, Ginny, Regulus and Harry have problems, sure. But none were as bad there new one. Now they must face a different generation as someone else and deal with gossip about possessions in one generation and a fabled love story in another.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does.

And makes us rather bear those ills we have

Than fly to others that we know not of? _\- Hamlet_ by William Shakespeare, Act III, Scene 1

Chapter 1: Lily

I never had an easy time falling asleep. My sister Petunia figured it was because of my energetic nature. I think it is because of sounds. My hearing is the worst. Every since I was a little girl I could hear voices from rooms in hotels. Not vague mumbles. The actual words they said. Every night as I lay in my bed I hear things like the vague swishing of tree branches, or the slight rocking of shifting bodies. During my early years Petunia would buy me earmuffs. Most nights I wear the brown one with a soft red design of a swing she obtained at an outdoors market when she visited France. When Petunia became jealous of my magical ability, she blamed my excessive hearing as a freak affliction. The presents stopped.

I wake up to the sound of snoring. Not Marlene McKinnon's peaceful hushing harmony of bahbahbah or Alice Taylor's funny gibberish. No, the honking noise that bangs and irritates. That is enough for me to know that something changed. Plus, the sound is less intrusive than normal. Fainter.

I push my head roughly against my pillow. I am still dreary from sleep. The movement fails. The honking beats against my eardrums. "Stop snoring," I groggily cry.

"Shut it Potter," someone answers.

"Stop snoring," I repeat. Why should I relent?

I hear a drumming noise as someone moves against his bed. Followed by stomps. Soon a person yells over me, "Not everything is about you Potter. Shish, stop complaining."

I open my eyes and am faced with the sight a drooling boy with an irritated expression. The sandy boy glares as he itches his untidy pajamas. "He's your friend after all. You stop him."

The boy points to a snoring orange-headed boy. As a redhead I recognize the many different shades of red. Some people bear hair more orange than red, hence orange-headed.

Okay. Last thing I remember is being excited for the first Quidditch game of the year. I am not a fan of the sport itself. But I do love the happy atmosphere that emerges from the game. Both the cheering for Gryffindor's scoring and huddling with my friends drinking hot chocolate. Yes. Marlene and I were discussing if she would borrow my pants and green turtleneck instead of wearing the typical robes.

Yet, somehow I ended up in a boy's dorm. I ignore the annoying boy and walk pass on the clumps of clothes on the floor. I am about to leave when another boy stops me. "Listen, Harry," the boy shares. He shuffles his feet. "Don't let Seamus get to you. He'll come around."

"Harry," I echo the name he mentioned. I look at closer at the boy. He has Alice's face - round and expressive – and blond hair with a slight bucktooth. For years Marlene and I chided Alice for her cute prodding tooth.

"Are you all right?" The blond boy sounds worried.

I shake my head. I am thoroughly overwhelmed. "Why are you calling me Harry?"

The boy frowns and shuffles his feet. "Sorry."

Whoa, he even follows Alice's nervous patterns.

A voice interrupts our exchange. "Morning mates. Why are you both standing around?"

It is the snoring boy from earlier.

The blond boy explains, "Seamus acting up again."

The orange-head boy nods and sighs, "Well, what do you say to some food, Harry?"

There it is again. Harry. I scoot to the bathroom. The mirror over the sink reveals the truth with the face staring at me. My eyes are riddled under a furious bed-head, a weird scar and all things Potter. Potter that foolish boy who loves to bother people. What the heck?

Harry must be a nickname, but where are Potter's friends?

The door creaks open behind me. The orange-headed boy moved to stand besides me. He asks, "Harry? Are you all right mate?"

"No," I answer. Who are you? "What's the date?"

The boy mumbles, "Someday, Hermione might know."

It was September the last time I was aware. "Sometime in September right?"

The boy gasps, "Its September 16th, Hermione's birthday. Were you thinking about getting something?"

Ah, there is a way to find what class year they are in. "What year was she born?"

"Dunno," the boy responds. "1980?"

"1980, not like 1960?"

The boy laughs, "She's not that old."

Whoa, maybe I am in the future and that is why they are different people. Kay, back to birthdays, "What do you think we should get him?"

The boy shrugs then gasps, "I swear I just heard you refer to Hermione as a he."

I did not expect that. From my experience most boys prefer spending time with other boys. I quickly explain, "I meant she. Slip of the tongue."

The boy nods. "Well, better get dress. Hermione's probably waiting."

The boy leaves and I begin to do my morning ritual. Thank goodness I am not a stranger to the male body. My ex-boyfriend Davey Gudgeon may not be the best in the broom closet, but my experiences with him leave me unfazed by a cock. The whole situation is still weird nonetheless. I would rather sit than stand.

After my shower, I pull on some of Harry's robes. I think over some ideas. I could research body switches and time travel. Hid in a secret passageway until I miraculously return to my body. In the end, I decide to ask for help from some professor - Dumbledore, McGonagall, maybe even Slughorn - after class. During class I can regain my bearings and observe people.

Once I reach the common room I locate the orange-headed boy sitting on a sofa with a girl that must be Hermione. Before we leave, Hermione's face wrinkles with mirth when I say Happy Birthday. "It's not till the 19th. As I already told Ron."

We then head to the Great Hall. Ron and Hermione argue the whole way and soon I join in. Harry probably is as argumentative as these two.

Ron and Hermione act a bit strange when I join in on their arguments. Ron grins widely and cheers that I am not sad. I guess Harry was upset last week. Hermione smiles and thanked me for following her advice. What advice? How to argue better? Hopefully, I just have to act the best I can until I am soon back where I belong. Yes, act like someone I know nil about.

Maybe I should tell them. I may not know them well, but they do deserve the truth. I would hate for someone to possess me and lie to my friends. Yet, it would become awkward to apologize for something I did not cause. Plus, they would become worried too. But I hate lying and deceiving. How many times have I reprimanded people for bullying others for no reason? Pretending is even worst than bullying.

The morning runs slowly. History of Magic is bland. Potions class is a bit interesting with the teacher deploring my perfect potion process. His matted black hair looks familiar. Like Severus's, but he would never teach.

Well, there I have it. A snappy blond calls the Professor, Snape. Look at that. Severus is a teacher. From the growls he sends my way, I can tell he linked his disdain for Potter to his son.

When Severus's breath prickles against me as I add poor some salamander in Harry's cauldron, I start hyperventilating. I almost collide a leg of the stool on his foot. Severus sneers, "Get control of yourself Potter."

_Just ignore him._ I tell myself. _We are no longer friends. His actions no longer matter._

Severus would cuff himself if he saw this. Acting just like the rival he hates.

The worst part of the morning though is the strangers. Strangers cloak every place much like my first day at Hogwarts. When I wandered with Marlene, Alice and Mary not knowing whom I was speaking to. When I faced people bugging me and not knowing the name to shout. When I wished for Severus's comforting reminder that I am not a speck of dust.

Today people stare at me. Some smile, but most glares. I hear many people mock Harry as crazy. Worst is that I am unsure if Harry would call them out. Potter certainly would but I know people are rarely like their parents. Alice's parents are strict and prefer to read than talk while Alice is a babbling machine. Marlene's parents are shy while Marlene faces no anxiety among crowds. In fact Marlene is a chief participant.

At lunch a boy with Ravenclaw robes comes over to Ron, Hermione and I. He looks intense, brown eyes wide. He taps his fingers friskily on the table. Finally, he reports in a nervous stammer, "I haven't talk to you three much. My name is Michael"

"Corner, I know," Hermione confides. "We have classes together."

Michael bobs his head. "Well I was talking to your sister this morning, Weasley, Something is wrong with Ginny. She's sprouting all this pureblood nonsense. I think she's possessed."

"How would you know that? You barely know Ginny." Ron blurts.

"Well even if I didn't date her for months." Michael retorts. "I do know her family doesn't believe that nonsense."

"Wait a moment," Ron says, smashing his fork against his plate. "Your dating Ginny? You can't be. I won't allow it."

Two boys come over and whisper in Michael's ear. Michael says, "I'll be back. And what Ginny and I do is our business. Not her nasty brother's."

The three walk to the edge of the Ravenclaw table, whispering frantically. The blond Ravenclaw waves his hand in the air as the two dark haired ones point to us.

"Nasty," Ron scorns. "He called me nasty. He's the nasty one."

"Ron," Hermione huffs. "That's Ginny and Michael's business. Please don't interfere."

"You knew," Ron cries. He turns to me. "Harry, did you know?"

Hermione answers for me, "Harry didn't. And Ron please…"

"She's my sister," Ron argues. "I should have a say."

Michael returns to the conversation. His two friends stand beside him. "Ron, lets just leave with I leave alone and you leave me alone. All right?"

Ron grits his teeth. "No. Stay away from my sister."

Poor Ron. I like how he cares so much about his sister. If only Petunia could be the same.

While the conversation continues with similar lines, I think back to the end of Michael's first statement. _Possessed._ Maybe "Ginny" is in the same position at me. If the person is, load off my back.

"How is she acting different?" I interrupt their banter.

Hermione's shoulders loosen from a tense posture.

"Well," Michael's blond friend explains. "She started boasting all this blood supremacist rubbish like muggle-borns destroying magic."

"Like Malfoy," Ron mumbles. "I bet its him."

"No," Michael's other friend explains. "Like Theodore Nott. All quiet and sly with the horrendous statements she said. She demeaned my suggestion of reading this good muggle book."

"You need to do something," Michael complains. "She refuses to talk to me. Something about my gross smell and my boring way of speaking."

"He called us bland half-bloods that should mind their betters. Mind. She used mind," Michael's blond friend exclaims.

"Michael, Terry, Anthony," Hermione insists. "Calm down. We'll talk to her."

"Good," Michael sighs. Faint stress lines emerge on his forehead. "I just really worried. I'd hate for Ginny to be hurt."

The three Ravenclaws leave. Ron and Hermione and I are quiet for a few moments.

Ron munches some food, but I can tell he is scared.

"I'll talk to Ginny," I tell them. "I'm sure she is fine. How likely is it that she is possessed? She probably was only annoyed with those boys. Needed to say something for them to shoo."

I am the expert at doing that so it seems like a good faux explanation.

"True," Ron perks up. "Sounds like something Ginny would do."

Lunch dwindles down so Ron and I head to Divination. Apparently, Hermione is taking Ancient Runes. I love that class. There is nothing like finding meanings from intricate pictures. Still, I am intrigued about taking Divination. I decided not to take it because it seemed frivolous. My roommate Mary often giggles ferociously when she detailed the Divination teacher's stories. Once Professor Bawalir's did a quest where she discovered a ruin that thrust her into a memory of a battle during the Troll Rebellion of 1214.

Dross. Divination turns out as a bunch of dross. Professor Trelawney is a far cry from the rumors of Professor Bawalir. She spends more time warning us about future events she discerned from thin air. Plus she speaks too softly. With my ears I would not mind, but with Harry's I struggle to listen.

Worst there is this woman ridiculing Professor Trelawney's actions. That woman horrifies me. Normally, I would not hate someone the moment we meet, but this woman screeches at everything. No wonder Professor Trelawney is so squeamish.

Just my luck; the next class is with the same bothersome woman. She forces us to read the worst book in history that should be called- How To Not Teach Anything Useful.

I break off with Ron and Hermione after that class, saying I need some alone time. Really, I want to find Ginny.

I first try the girl's staircase and I trip. Damn it. The staircase bases gender on body. A girl behind me laughs. When she starts to walk upstairs I ask her to see if Ginny is at her dorm. Ginny is not. I wander around the school, asking many people. No one knows. And then it happens, I discover an orange-headed girl that must be Ginny. Or at least the person in Ginny's body is by the broom shed.

"Hi, Ginny," I greet.

The person politely answers, "Yes."

I continue with what I want to know. No need for small talk. "You're not Ginny Weasley, right?"

The person moves to leave. I block. "I'm in the same position. I'm Lily Evans, not Harry Potter."

"Great," the person mutters. "Just what I need. The only person in my position, a mudblood."

How I hate that word. I struggle to not break. The word drags me back to last June when Severus tore my loyalty to him into a shadow of the past. If I did not need this person, I would cut him or her loose too.

"I guess you're a Slytherin," I sigh. "I know you don't like people like me, but I would think you would understand that it be more useful for us to help each other. If you want to get home, that is."

"Why would I work with you? Regulus Black, with a mudblood, people like you ruin everything?"

"Sirius's brother," I shout.

He scoffs with the same obnoxious air of his brother.

"Anyways," I explain. "If we get home, this wouldn't matter to them. What can they do? Its not like they'll treat you like their son in the body your in."

"This is the worst," Regulus groans.

Typically pureblood; instead of thinking logic, they mumble complaints.

"Listen to me," I command. "Let's work together and get home. We can ignore each other afterwards."

Regulus steps close to me. "Like never. I will never working with you thieves and liars and crazy interlopers like you."

"Ginny," a person yells behind us. "Take that back. You know Harry is not a liar."

The person is Ron. Hermione lingers next to him.

"I had enough," Regulus asserts and he stomps off. He throws off Ron's attempt to keep him here with a flick of Ginny's wand. Ron hits the grass on his stomach.

Ron bends on his knees, fear written in his face. "She's possessed again."

"I know," Hermione answers. "We need to talk to Dumbledore."

"No," I break in. They need to know the truth. "I am…" Guck falls out of Harry's mouth as I try to say that I am not Harry. I try again and more white bile falls on Harry's fingers, then his left shoulder when I wipe my mouth there.

Ron and Hermione are frantic. They rush to me and pull me against their arms. Hermione spells some of the guck off my hands, mouth and shoulder. More drool disperses as I try to tell them again.

"Stop talking," Hermione orders.

I stop. Telling them is futile. They drag me to the Hospital Wing.

One thing is for sure. I need to find a way to tell them the truth. Writing, maybe. No way am I going to find a solution with only an ignorant and prejudice Pureblood.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does.

Chapter 2: Ginny

Before today I believed my worst experience was behind me. True I still become anxious whenever I write something down, but I am no longer possessed by a lunatic's diary. No longer am I waking up with missing moments and fearing that someone will link me to the petrifications.

Look how wrong I was. I am surrounded by jittering Slytherins in their Quidditch Team's locker room. Even more unfortunate, I am in the wrong time period in the year 1976.

About twenty years from now I, Ginny Weasley, will enjoy this school in my own house. I would not have to deal with agreeing to distressing Pureblood notions. I would not worry many Slytherins with chucks of bile streaming down my mouth when I try to explain the truth. I would not have a freaky bathroom experience where I witness a part of a male's body I wish to only see when I am ready for sex.

Now, Captain Emma Vanity shares the customary pre-game speech. She even added a bit of my episode this morning. Like I need a reminder of everyone charging angry remarks at me for falling sick. Keeper Lucinda Talkalot adds her own gist of the plan for the game. Apparently she will be the next team captain.

New players surround me. Marvin Snowyowl sits at my left. His father played beater a few years prior and he was excited to finally join the team. On my right is the other beater, Steven Pucey.

Two chasers named Evan Rosier and Lawrence Flint are banging their brooms against each other. Clucking sounds bang against Flint's head when Rosier's broom knocks against his eyebrows. Are they trying to hurt each other?

I am a bit nervous. I flew many times before in the middle of the night. Those times I am overthrown with the thrilling sensation of wind gushing against my neck. But I never played a game and seeker is not my best position. I am better at offense and social interaction. I find glancing around for a small object straining.

"Doing well, Regulus," Vanity's question strips me from my thoughts.

"Fine," I answer.

"If you are feeling sick, I am fine with using Burke."

"No," I insist. "I want to play."

For years I dreamed to play a real Quidditch game. No way am I giving up the chance. Even if no one will remember me playing it.

"That's the spirit."

I walk after Vanity and Talkalot, next to Snowyowl and Pucey to the field. I turn and find Rosier and Flint walking like sloths while they did a mock broom battle.

Vanity notices the same. "Hurry up." They do.

The stadium is crowded. People fill all the seats according to house. I look at the section I would sit with my Gryffindor dorm mates Hailey and Sarah. Of course, neither is there. But I cannot help but wish there were familiar faces. Like in my time, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff ban together for the same team. Today, I find many yellow and black scarves and hats. Some Gryffindors outline their scarves with dots of red. The Slytherin section screams loud cheers as we enter the field.

A voice from the commentator's box calls, "Hello, everyone. Welcome to the first game of the year. I am Bertha Jorkins and I am excited for my last year as commentator. Sadly, next year I will go to outside Hogwarts. In good news exciting events happened before this game. In fact the Slytherin team almost had to play a reserved Seeker because Regulus Black was puking this morning. I would say poor boy, but you all know Slytherins get what they …"

Can I just leave? Everyone is staring at me like I am going to die and many non-Slytherins look pleased at that fact. This Jorkins girl is a going to get hers.

Luckily, McGonagall intercedes then. After they talk a bit, Jorkins nods consent and continues with introducing the game. "Anyways on Slytherin we have Captain and Chaser Vanity, Keeper Talkalot – she sure talks way to much, one time she told me that I should stop gossiping when we all know she is the worst, like I ever would steel someone's boxer shorts- newcomers Beaters Snowyowl and Pucey and Seeker Black, and our favorite Chasers and rough players Rosier and Flint. On Hufflepuff we got the sweetest team yet, the gorgeous Seeker and Captain Amos Diggory followed by the smashing Chasers Nathan Smith, Andrew Cadwallader and Ethan Campbell, the plain Keeper Lauren Abbott, and the couple of the year, Beaters Buckley Cooper and Isobel Vane."

Vanity and Diggory do the Captain handshake. Madam Hooch gives her normal reminder. Then I fly off in the air. So this is what it is like to fly on a prime broom instead of one of my brothers' weak cheap one. Despite this broom belonging decades behind the ones from my time, the pristine characteristics boost its durability.

Diggory's uptight face greets me in the corner of the field. "Hey, Black, ready to loose?"

Appears younger Mr. Diggory is as arrogant as he is in the future. "Nope because you will. See you."

I glide through the air. The snitch is nowhere in sight. Ow. I leaned a bit forward on the broom and now Regulus's crotch is sitting the wrong way. I struggle to adjust as a Quaffle speeds my way. I am so caught up in readjusting that I miss the Quaffle and it almost punches Regulus's cheek.

Aw. Much better. And the Quaffle comes in my way again. I really should have started the game away from the post. Well, this time I catch it. A high voice is yelling, burning my hearing. And Madam Hooch calls a foul. What? I watched many games and I cannot recall this causing a foul. The Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and Gryffindors cheer. Many Gryffindors include profanity.

The rough games the Slytherins play in my time are bothersome, but the nasty words are cawed after games. Maybe later I should study the interesting differences between this time and mine. Hermione and I could have an interesting discussion on it.

So one Hufflepuff Chaser takes a foul shot. Merlin he is horrible; he shoots too lightly and misses. This time the cheers stem from the Slytherin stands.

I clap with them. Thank goodness my mistake did not ruin things. I need to win this game. Loosing is not my style. A bludger speeds over to me. I spin around, a move Michael taught me back in June. Oh, Michael, I wish I could have shown you this. I picture his smile, his teeth goofily hanging open.

The Hufflepuff Beaters come towards me, blocking my surroundings. A bludger almost clips my face when I thrust myself upside down, causing it to hit the tip of Regulus's broom. I drift downwards and abruptly charge upwards to the other side of the field. The Hufflepuff Beaters at my heels. I hurry along and zigzag in different directions. Harry did this back in my first year with that malfunctioning bludger. I figure the strategy can work with shadowing Beaters as well. Suddenly, the snitch appears by my nose. Its like the snitch wants me to win. Or pick my nose. I lean back and snatch it.

Rambunctious laughter spills from my left. Boos from all over. Slytherins start singing, "Slytherins, the worthy, may we always succeed. Black, Vanity, our team, lets gather our victory."

Jorkins yells, "And Slytherin wins, 230 to 120. Next time Hufflepuff. Till then, we will have to handle the victorious snakes."

I fly to the ground, placing Regulus's broom on the ground. I pant and rub Regulus's sweating back. Soon Rosier and Flint place their brooms next to Regulus's and fling me on their arms. Vanity flies over and gives me a kiss on the cheek. Talkalot does the same. Pucey drifts his broom next to Vanity and hugs her before smacking her lips. Howls resonate from Slytherins who are running down to meet us.

After meeting and greeting many Slytherins, Pucey, Snowyowl and I walk back to the locker room. We chat about our favorite moments of the game. I learn that the Quaffle I caught was coming Flint's way so they were a bit annoyed with my mistake. Oh, well. When they are finished changing they head to prepare for the party. I say good-bye. I cannot stand them another second. They may seem normal, but they are Slytherins.

I head to the lake. This lake is the reason for my ability to move on from my diary experience. The cool water reminded me that I was alive and that the world was still thriving. That something will always be there that can cool memories. When Harry saved me, the nights where I painted blood on walks and climbed into the Chamber of Secrets reemerged in my mind. The water proved that blood could wash off. Even if my memories will remain forever imprinted in my conscience.

A redheaded girl lies cross-legged at the lake. I join her. "Beautiful, isn't it."

"Yes," she answers. "Like nothing bad can happen."

I know. Bad events are pushed aside here. "That's why I love this lake," I share. "It helped me after many rough days."

I cannot say for sure why I am sharing all this to a stranger. It could be my stress.

A dog growls behind us. A shaggy black dog scoots between us, and lays his head on Regulus's knee. He is so adorable. For some reason this dog appears familiar. I cannot fathom why.

I pet the dog's soft fur. I prefer cats. There is something about animals that wander all they long free from overprotective brothers. Still, this dog is wonderful. He sniffs my knee before leaning his head back on the floor. I bet his belly. The girl joins in. The dog skids closer to me.

"So, is this your dog?" I ask.

"No, I think its Hagrid's. He has a dog." The girl pauses. "I think."

I nod. So Fang's predecessor was a shaggy black dog. "True. So did you like the Quidditch game?"

She smiles and begins commentating her thoughts. While she talks I notice her eyes. They are like Harry's, green and glinting.

Like that, I am back in the chamber. With Harry looking intently at me, blood marred over his arms. Promising hope that I interpreted as meaning he cares. Tough love. The next day I return the forgotten girl.

All those years I watched a boy with those eyes. I crushed so long for him as the hero than the reality. I want to look away, but these eyes fixate me to my imagination. That I am with Harry Potter. The boy I wish to really know. The boy I wish believed me special.

Sometimes I wish dad never told me the Boy-Who-Lived story many nights for years. The constant exposure clouds my judgment of Harry. Thank goodness Hermione helped me realize that.

This girl with Harry's eyes must be his mother. A young girl who is both oblivious to her riddled future son and her tragic death. A girl who probably cannot imagine dying young. I can. Red splotches of blood impede in my dreams. Dancing around the wall. Petrified faces congregate in my nightmares. Lying on hospital beds. Their empty eyes blame me for their pain. Appearing so similar to the dead.

"Are you all right?" The girl's voice reminds me that I was supposed to be listening.

Without thinking I reply, "Sorry. Your eyes memorized me for a second."

"Oh," Harry's mother says, and inches a way from me.

Troll my big mouth. I look like a boy now; I need to refrain from pick-up line tripe.

"I didn't mean it like that. Just trying out a line. Thank goodness I now know its awful."

Harry's mother laughs. Good.

What is her name? What did dad say?

I think back to my adored childhood tale. Dad would say, "The was once a family of three, two loving parents and their son. A son with wild magic and parents amazed at his remarkable magical nature. A year after this boy's birth, a villain cruel and powerful storms in their home. The father, James Potter, fought him at the doorway. Dying James chuckled morose sorrow. The mother, Lily Potter, gathered her courage and faced death thinking about her son's future. The monstrous intruder aimed a death cruse at the son and the son flashed the curse towards the evil villain. The evil villain was no more and the world was better for it."

"Lily," I gasp. "That's your name."

Lily glances at me and closes her eyes. After a second of silence she answers, "Yes. I guess so. Well I better, ugh."

She places her hand against her head. Her hand begins to writhe over her forehead. I grip her hand and gently force it on her knee. Many times I helped my mother fix my brother's cuts that way. Then, I place Regulus's hand on her burning forehead. I hope that would help. Well, better than a convulsing hand.

"No, for a second," Lily mumbles. "It cannot be."

"What?" What just happened?

She shakes her head. "Nothing."

She hurries away without a good-bye. I watch her retreating back.

Lily strange moment is devoid of anything useful, but her actions made it look like she saw something not there. Something strange. I whisper to myself dad's advice. "Dad said to never ignore a mysterious circumstance."

The dog barks. Oh what a trouble I am in.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does.

Chapter 3: Regulus

It is now Tuesday morning and one day after my imprisonment in a blood traitor's body.

Today is day two of answering to a horrible name and handling far too long hair that keeps falling from a ponytail. I am already in a bind. Worst, the people I encounter all expect me to agree with traitorous rhetoric.

When I first talked with Ginny's dorm mates Hailey and Sarah I believed I resided in an illusion. Or some 'fun' joke my idiotic brother Sirius came up with his insolent friends. I talked to those Ravenclaws in that mindset. Thinking that they were part of a joke to embarrass me. I wanted them to go away so I talked back, especially when they advocated mudblood support. My surety this was a bothersome did not falter until Evans shared she was in the wrong body too.

Like I would work with her.

Still, I know I was a fool yesterday. I will not deny that. My normal attitude during hard situations was to act the reticent peacemaker. But usually those problems were other peoples. Bella's panic when Rodolphus conducted a mission without her. Cissy's many heedless attempts to gain a child. Dealing with Sirius's non-stop feud with our parents. Comforting my dad's worries that he will never accomplish Legilimency.

But yesterday the problem was my own. I am a Slytherin. I should be cunning, not a mess. Not a fool sharing my opinions to strangers.

As a child I learned the best way to please others was to stay silent and learn from them. My brother can ride off with bold statements about equality and the importance of mudbloods. But I see them as they are- a menace. They enter my family's world and screw order. They never try to assimilate in our culture. They dilute genetic magical ability so much that there is now too many half-bloods producing squibs. Us purebloods deserve to rule over the scavengers and worthless muggles.

Yet, I need to act like a person I hate now. I need to throw away my inner fool. I will find a way back.

Till then, time for Charms class. I could forget about the Weasely's classes, help her flunk, but I know anything I do strange could worsen my position. Could facilitate the possession rumor. A rare rumor which actually reflects the truth.

I sit at the front table in the left side of the classroom. Hailey and Sarah sit in the two places to my right. They chitchat while I think. From I gathered, they are not very close with Ginny. They barely reacted to the excitement of yesterday. When they heard of the possession accusation, they laughed and continued gossiping.

Now, other Gryffindors fill seats in the two tables behind us. Many Ravenclaws clump in groups on the right side. I am glad that some things about Hogwarts last. There is a reason for splitting in houses after all.

A girl with loose blond hair places herself in a seat next to me. "Hello," she greets without preamble. She fiddles with a bracelet on her wrist. The bracelet is cluttered with small bizarrely curved shells. She notices my glance. "Nice, are they not? Daddy owled it today from Thailand. They are amicus shells that produce a slight breeze when two friends touch."

The girl places the bracelet against Ginny's wrist. I flinch thanks to the many sharp edges of the shells. They feel like fingernails sliding my skin. Unsurprisingly, no breeze comes.

"Maybe its defective," the girl decides. "Yes. I heard rumors of you being possessed. But I doubt them. Nothing is flying around you. Not even the Wrackspurt that attached to you during the last Charm's class."

"Oh," I respond. I say Ginny is the worst at picking friends. First there are two indifferent dorm mates and now a whack-job.

Flitwick starts the class with a reminder. "Next class the High Inquisitor will be observing. I trust you all to be on your most excellent behavior. I will handle any grave problems so no need to be frantic." He gestures to a few Ravenclaws that scribbled notes with frenzied movements.

"Now," Flitwick continues, jumping a bit on the chair he stands on. "Can anyone remind the class the difference between the Summoning and Disarming Charm?"

That is such a remedial question. Many students peer sleepily at their desks. I think about answering but decide to wait. No need to help Ginny's grade. No, what I wish for is to tussle on my broom with my best friend Barty Crouch.

Some Ravenclaw raises his hand. "The Summoning Charm can receive any movable object while the Disarming charm takes only wands."

"Good. Good. Five points to Ravenclaw. Today we will learn the theory behind the Banishing Charm before practicing the Summoning Charm. I recognize that a few are still facing difficulties. Does anyone have a guess concerning the Banishing Charm?"

Hailey waves her hand. Flitwick picks her and Hailey reports, "The charm makes something disappear."

Idiot. The title is banishing not vanishing.

"Good guess," Flitwick compliments. He notices me roll my eyes for a second. "But that's not it. Miss. Weasley?"

"They send objects away from the sender."

Flitwick beams, "Fantastic. Five points to Gryffindor."

Flitwick continues his question and answer session for a few more minutes. Its almost like I am still in the 1970s. The class structure is the same, but I am with Gryffindors and Ravenclaws instead of Slytherins and Hufflepuffs.

After class I wander into the library. Now bookcases enclose me. Random books are placed sideways, stains tarnished on covers. Most likely students treating the books like plastic dolls, unimportant and okay to break. Vermin.

As I grab a book titled "Time For What its Worth", someone taps my shoulder. I turn and find the bushy-haired girl I saw yesterday with Evans and the other Weasley. She places her overfilled bag on the floor with a clank. The girl ignores some books that topple out onto the floor.

She asks, "Hi Ginny, I was wondering if you meant what you said yesterday."

I contemplate the best answer. "No. Harry was bothering me yesterday so I lashed out. With the views I shared, I said them because I was curious about how my friends would react."

The girl answers, "He means well. Harry's just had a tough year."

Not as tough as mine. Harry did not lose his brother. Harry did not battle Fletchey for the seeker's position. Harry did not have to handle his father's sickly situation or his mother's fury. I need to go back before my dad dies. I hope, if the anything that controls the universe cares about me, that time stops still while I am here.

"Yes. I understand. I will not do it again," I say.

The girl smiles, " I believe you. That was a really foolish trick. You can't do it again. Okay?"

"Okay," I affirm. How many confirmations does this girl want? "I need to work on a project. I will talk to you at another time."

The girl grins. "Its good to know someone who focus on their studies too. I already told you most of this. But last week was the worst."

A random student saves me from more rambling with a note. The Headmaster wants me. Well, Ginny. Perfect. The man who gifts Gryffindor's with everything and ignores any other houses' complaints.

In the Headmaster's office Dumbledore converses with two anxious people. One is a plump woman who is clutching the other's hands. The other is a tall man fiddling with his glasses. Both have red hair. My guess is they are Ginny's parents.

Ginny's mother rushes over to engulf me in a fierce hug. "Ginny. We heard that some concerns of another possession from your brothers. Oh, I hope it's not true. But we'll try our hardest if it is."

This mother could learn from my mother. Mother knows the right way to treat children. By only comforting at only opportune times and even then with fettered caring. Not with abandon from social cues.

"I am not possessed." I laugh, trying to stress the accusation as absurd.

Ginny's father quietly asks, "Are you sure Ginny? I heard from Ron that you said some horrible things yesterday. And the last time you had no clue till it was too late."

Last time. So possession happened to this Weasley. A page from a book I read last summer flashes in my mind. "It was a prank," I reveal. "Lets leave it at that."

"Ginny," Dumbledore discloses. "This is a serious rumor you are facing. We feel that it's best to do a quick possession charm."

"No." No way am I going allow that. "Do those charms even exist?"

"Ginny, its for your own good," Ginny's mother explains. Her father nods his consent.

Well it is not for me. Another page from the book I read flickers. Merlin, I want to heartily shake my father's hand right now. For he demanded that I read law books.

"And as a minor who has been possessed before I have, according to rule 6023, the right to refrain from indecent exposure. Those include rare charms. I already had my share," I retort.

"Ginny, you read the law books?" Ginny's father is amazed. His arms stretch forward, like he is about to hug me with pride.

"I am so proud of you darling," Ginny's mother agrees.

Dumbledore agrees with fake benevolence. "That's reasonable. I understand your concern, my dear. But the problem is still at hand. We need to check you for possession."

"This charm. This is a bit too much for some statements I said. See I was annoyed with Coiner."

"Coiner?" Dumbledore looks confused.

"That Ravenclaw. Anyways, I said that resulted in my unintentional remarks."

"A simple test," Dumbledore reiterates.

Man, he is stubborn.

"No, I'm not going to allow it," I command. "I am not possessed. Lets leave it at that. What I said was my own thoughts. Please after what happened I would know if I was possessed again. I just want to continue my life as normal."

Ginny's mother orders Dumbledore. "Albus, while I am still worried. This is a family matter."

"Plus," Ginny father adds. "Ginny doesn't appear like she did two years ago. I am sure this is all a misunderstanding."

She turns to me. "Ginny, do you have time to talk now?"

"No," I answer. "Can I come home this weekend?" That will give me some time to discover how to act like a Weasley.

"Okay, darling," Ginny's mother agrees. "Stay out of trouble."

I promise, "I will."

She hugs me and gushes her pride. Ginny's father follows with similar gratitude and promises to mail me soon. They both remind me to remain cautious.

Dumbledore warns me before I leave, "If you ever want to tell me anything, I am here. I am truly worried."

And that is how a crisis is averted. Now all I have to deal with is nosy parents. Take that controlling Headmaster.

Now food sounds delicious. Kreacher's steak and kidney pie, smudged with some red peppers. Maybe Mandy is still working at Hogwarts. Words cannot describe her spaghetti limed with pesto sauce. Nah. I just grab something at the Great Hall. Most house-elves are too chatty and Kreacher, my sarcastic friend, would not recognize me.

Sadly, after one crisis ends, another emerges. When I enter the Great Hall I encounter a ragged crowd of students. Students block my view. I rush through and find McGonagall restraining a student in the center of the chaos. A toad-like woman is shrieking at the student. A student pushes Ginny's shoulder. I collide on the ground. Curse this short body. I glare at the tosser. He just winks. If he knew who I was …

I strain to hear the conversation between McGonagall, the suppressed student and the toad. And guess what their topic is? A possession. One that I think is purely dramatic.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. **

**AN- **Thank you MissSadieKane for your support so far for this story. I hope you like the new chapter.

Chapter 4 – Harry

Its all my fault. This stupid situation I am in. Seems like I cannot go through a year without a disaster.

During the last few weeks I dreamed a reoccurring mess. In the dream I wander through a hallway as complicated as a maze. I enter a room with a glowing black veil. A force struggles to drag me towards a certain door that leads back to the hallway while I wish to touch this shimming veil. Two nights ago I finally touched it. I even went through it into a room of three visions. One had a group of three young girls trying on clothes. I recognized one from a photograph. My mother. The second depicted my best friend's little sister Ginny. A memory from right before second year; when Ginny placed her elbow in a butter dish. The scene in the last vision frightened me the worst. In it watery bodies dragged a teenage Sirius underwater to his death as he gagged out liquid.

I flung into the scene with my mother, wanting to touch her hands and to hear her speak. I did not think the dream was magical. I did not imagine that it would result in me thrusting her from her body and taking her place. Rather stupid, I know. After four years at Hogwarts I should know to be careful. But this dream fascinated me because it was different from my other dreams. For once I was neither moving nowhere nor seeing Cedric die yet again. Thank goodness, I thought. How wrong I was.

The gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office stands before me now. I tried guessing every sweet I know already. Yet the gargoyle remains still, blocking my one hope.

"Are you doing well Miss Evans?" I turn to find Professor McGonagall behind me, waiting patiently for my answer. Her concern is obvious from her slightly slanted posture.

Who is Miss Evans? That is what I want to ask. Not because I do not know, because I do know. At least I know Miss Evans' identity- my mother, Lily Evans. Such a pretty name. But I am clueless about how she acts. Sirius and Lupin told me all about what a loyal and mischievous friend my father was, he even saved a horrible person's life, but they never really described my mother. I am sure she is a great woman. She did sacrifice her life for me after all. But how can I keep the future from changing while not knowing her at all?

That's why I want to go into Dumbledore's office. Not only to get home but to also find a way to survive in the wrong life.

"Yes," I answer. "I need to speak to Dumbledore."

"He's out on business," Professor McGonagall explains. "You can tell me. I'll forward the message when he's back."

"Great." That's good news. "I," I want to say, 'My name is Harry Potter' but my throat cuts me from saying it. I try again and this time a sore pain tumbles down my throat. Really, it is like a ball of pain is falling down a staircase within my throat. I need to say something, anything that can hint the truth. What would Ron do? Insist he is in a mad world. What would Hermione do? She would try again and go, "My name is Hermione Granger."

"What?" Professor McGonagall creases her forehead.

Opps. I said it out loud. "I'm not Hermione, I'm…" Again my throat cuts me off. "I'm…" _not in the right body._ "I'm…" _from the future._ "I need your help to return home." Yes! I could finally say something tangible. I am on a winning streak. "I'm not…" _who you think I am._ This is strange. I can say lies and ask for help, but I cannot specifically say anything about my predicament.

Oh my. This must be Voldemort's plan. Earlier I felt his anger that his plan for me failed. But what if it did not. What if it just occurred differently than he planed? What if, oh no, oh no, oh no, he means for me to become him. No. I will never. I need to return to normal.

No. I am being ridiculous. Voldemort could not think of this. It all came from my subconscious, my dreams, and mysterious magic a lunatic like Voldemort would never comprehend.

"All right, dear," Professor McGonagall squeezes my hand, returning me from my reverie. "It's going to be all right. I can see if I can work my the governors to allow you a trip home next weekend."

Huh. "Oh I mean the…" _future. Ron and Hermione_. Maybe I should let this rest. This is my only chance to meet my grandparents. "That'll be great."

Professor McGonagall smiles. "I send you a letter once I work everything out. But first I'm guessing that a curse was put upon you to prevent you from speaking. Can you hint the people responsible? It will be confidential, of course."

I shake my head. "Its my fault what's going on. It was …" _my stupid idea to reach for my mother. _"No one cursed me."

Professor McGonagall frowns. "You do not need to handle it yourself again."

"I do. Thanks for the offer Professor." I try to smile at her, but end up with only a grimace, and walk away.

I am tired of her disappointing help. She left me to Umbridge's detention. She did not listen to me in first year. You know what, I am tired of everyone. Their feeble apologizes, useless help and constant chatter. I am tired of these ears burning from too much noise. What is up with this creaking?

Whatever. I can solve this alone.

555

"Its nice that you care."

A second ago I turned my head away from a girl changing. She grabbed a skirt from a closet and began take off her robes. I could not stand the idea of looking. Ron probably would be amazed at my control and urge me to take this opportunity. Seamus would … I rather not think about Seamus.

"I mean, I wish boys could be more like you. Respectful, you know. But of course they always watch with those sick expressions of theirs. I can't believe how obvious they are sometimes."

My mum's note that I am reading is confusing. She talks all about some Dave guy. How she feels betrayed by him and still wants to try the twist. Then she mentions another guy. A guy she calls The Toerag. She hates that she likes him so badly. She plans to kick his ass.

"I'm finished Lily. What you think?"

In the letter mum asks Marlene to help her. On the back Marlene says do the twist with Davey and then dump him. She wants to prank The Toerag with my mum.

"Lily." A hand grabs my mum's and pulls me from my bed. The note falls off the bed to the floor. The girl, now fully dressed in a skirt and a flowery top, twirls in front of me.

"What do you think?" She gazes at me and thumbs through her hair, awaiting my answer.

"You look fine," I answer. What is it with girls and wanting approval?

"Your sure, Lily? You need to tell me what you really think," the girl whines.

I did. Its not like I said she looked gorgeous. Girls.

"You look wonderful MacDonald. Now get you ass into gear. Leo is waiting." Another girl with dirty-blond hair walks up to us.

"Oh cut it, Marlene," MacDonald snaps. "He'll wait forever for me."

I laugh. Like any guy would do that.

"See Lily agrees with me," Marlene exclaims. "You are a dumbass girlfriend."

"Leo wouldn't want me any other way," MacDonald says with pride. "Bye-bye girls."

Marlene shakes her head while watching MacDonald leave. "She's one piece of work." She turns to me. "So what happened this morning? One moment were putting on clothes and then you ran off."

"I needed some time alone," I explain.

"That's not what I heard." I jump at this new person talking. The new girl's cheeks redden when I glance at her. "Oh come on, I heard all about your new beau."

"I was getting to it," Marlene yips. "If you only waited two minutes Alice, I would have all the juicy details already."

"Well behold me for being impatient. I do have something to do tonight," Alice retorts.

Marlene frowns and shakes a little. "You put a good word for me, right?"

"Of course," Alice answers with a comforting sigh. "You too, Lily. Soon. Make sure your both free Wednesday night."

"What are you talking about?" My mum cannot have a new boyfriend. I cannot stand having to pretend or even chance a peck on a boy's lips.

"The Society," Alice explains.

Huh? What does that have to do with a boyfriend? "The thing about a boyfriend. I don't have a new boyfriend. Do I?" Does mum? Yuck. Yuck. Yuck. I am the worst son ever freaking out about this instead of figuring out a way home.

"Oh," Alice gasps. "We heard you were with some Slytherin. What have we told you about Slytherin boys? Their creeps and scumbags and want to kill girls like you. What were you thinking?"

Oh. She must mean Sirius's brother. I met him earlier by the lake. He was weird with his strange comment. But also nice and far from the idiot Sirius mentioned. At least that is what I can tell from our one-minute interaction. I felt comfortable around him. For those few minutes this anger bubbling inside me since the Fourth Task subsided and I felt good. Good. How I long for that feeling to return.

I need their voices to be less squeaky. I clasp my hands over my mum's ears. Alice and Marlene gaze at me curiously.

"I didn't mean it like that. I'm not questioning your intelligence. I just never though you would like a Slytherin after what he did." Alice's voice becomes frantic as she continues. "He hurt you badly. I can't stand for you to look like what you did that night again. Please, talk to me. Please."

"Stop," Marlene shouts, clasping her hand over Alice's mouth. "The ear thing."

Alice's wheezes under Marlene's hand and nods. Marlene lets go. The two girls sit on my mum's bed. They are silent for a while. I am so thankful. Ron and Hermione would continue chattering.

I am stuck contemplating over Alice's revelation. A Slytherin hurt my mum. A scumbag like Malfoy, maybe even Lucius Malfoy. Or Snape. They were in the same year. I could imagine. Snape's cruel grin as he hurts my mum, glad to punish anyone with some decency because he hates the world. It could be Crabbe's father or Goyle's. It could be anyone.

"I hate Slytherins," I yell. "Their stupid mocking and hatred. I was just talking to Regulus briefly. It meant nothing."

"Really? I heard you were in love," Alice replies. "That your starcrossed lovers ready to take the world and fix it."

"Alice," Marlene gasps, grinding her teeth.

Bloody gossipers. Always inventing stories. I am neither crazy nor in love from one conversation. I yell, my frustration taking over me, "I am tired of people making stories. Can't they just enjoy their lives without running mine? Mocking me. Calling me crazy. Calling me a liar."

I stop. I cannot believe I said that.

"We believe you," Marlene asserts, rubbing my mum's shoulder.

"We do." Alice squeezes my mum's hand. "I'm so sorry for believing it for a minute. Bloody liars. Screw them all."

That is all I had to say for these two to believe a popular story. No proof? No insisting for all the details? These girls. Words cannot describe them.

555

I walk down the corridor. I am ready to rush through the veil and return to my body. Getting through the veil is fine. Some force within my dream forces me through. But returning home is not. All I discover on the other side is empty space.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does. **

Chapter 5: Lily

Yesterday Lee Jordon made a mockery out of the Ginny Weasley possession rumor. I was not there during the event. However, Ron's twin brothers provided the gist to Ron, Hermione and I. Apparently, Jordon decided that people needed uplifted spirits. He blamed the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher with hurting the normal Hogwart's morale. Stupid. A prank never solves anything. They only hurt people.

Anyways, the best way, according to Jordon, was to act like someone was controlling him in from of the Head's Table. He allegedly zoomed over they table yelling, "The ghost of You-Know-Who is in me. Get it out. Get it out."

No surprise, Professor McGonagall stampeded over to him and gave him a detention. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, that I learned is named Umbridge, presented a harsher punishment. She displayed Jordon before a crowd as a lunatic. And then kept him detention all that afternoon and night.

Ron, Fred and George are all enraged with Jordon. They are refusing to look at Jordan, who is currently begging for their forgiveness. Hermione and I are on a couch in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione is muttering about their foolishness. While I agree, I am mostly thankful for this chance for serenity.

"We told you that it was a big deal," one twin screams. "Our sister, damn it."

Jordon sighs, twiddling with his dreadlocks, "I'm sorry, I just wanted to lessen your worries about Ginny being possessed."

"That was not the way to do it," the other twin exclaims. He looks hilarious with his arms wagging in the air. "Dumbledore handled it. We know now she isn't."

Jordon cracks his neck and swallows, "I know I shouldn't have. I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"And worst you ridiculed Harry," Ron declares.

What? How did Jordon's foolish prank affect Harry? No. This could mean they know I am not Harry. If they do, there is nothing I can do. I tried writing the truth yesterday and received bloody fingernails. I struggled the last few days, dismayed at my inability to write. Every time I touch a quill that last few days, Harry's slowly healing fingers hurt from the pressure. When Madam Pomfrey tried to heal them and failed, she muttered profanities. I cannot choose which effect I hate more, puking or blood.

Jordon glances at me, "I'm sorry Harry."

"That was a stupid act you did yesterday," I respond. There is nothing really more I want to say. If it was Potter who did the prank, I could go on for hours because he has the funniest reactions. Once Potter raised his eyebrows and stuck his tongue out, swirling it around. But this guy just gazes downwards to emphasis his apology. Boring. I look at the Weasley brothers. Hopefully, they will continue their rant.

No such luck.

A twin drags me to Jordon. I gain the full wrath of his sweating arm. Yuck. It smells like waste in a garbage can. I rip Harry's arm away. The twin pouts when I shake my head. Much to my dismay, he puts his shoulder around the back of Harry's neck.

The twin declares, "Nope. I think it's finally time to allow you Harrykins to join in a revenge prank. What do you think? Stick his hand to Umbridge for a day. Turn his hair pink. Have him croak like a cricket."

I fling his arm from my shoulder. "I will have nothing with this. Pranks will not change anything. They aren't even funny."

"Oh no," the other twin snorts. "Your sounding like Hermione."

Well, I, like Hermione, I know that pranks are not the answer to anything. No. I am sensible.

"I will have nothing to do with it," I insist.

Both of the twins' eyebrows rise up in sync with surprise. One throws his hands up in the air, "Oh what has Hermione done to you?"

Why is that the typical pompous boy response to everything? Those boys just do not understand the cruelty that stems from pranks.

"Well, while you and your twin waste your time with vengeance, Ron, Hermione and I will figure out if Ginny is possessed or not."

Actually, my plan is to distract Ron and Hermione from hurting Regulus, but they do not need to know. I am also hoping that something we fine describes what is happening to me. I am sure that is the best way for them to learn the truth.

"But she's not," the more annoying twin shouts. He attempts, yet again, to place his arm firmly behind Harry's neck. Yet again I shake it off. "Our mother said she is fine."

"Oy," Ron jumps in. "How can you believe that. The bastard possessing Ginny tricked mum."

The twin groans. Not in response to what Ron said, but because I slammed his offending arm against a couch. Just guess what he tried to do. "Get your ruddy arm off me."

"Ok. Ok. Sorry. Harry. Let my arm be," The twin exclaims.

"Come on." Hermione beacons Ron and I over. "Lets go."

We leave the twins who quickly return to badgering Jordon.

555

In the library, Ron paces around our table. I understand his worry, but it is now annoying. He has done that for the last twenty minutes after all. Aren't his feet exhausted?

Hermione meanwhile reads a book titled _Possessions: Can One Really Know_. She grips each page while she reads. A smile forms as she reads her current page.

I glance at the book I tried to read, _How To Prove Possession_. I cannot believe I located a book with the title of my goal. Even though the book deals with an interesting subject matter, the author decided to write it with pedantic and confusing terms. I struggled with ten pages. No more. No more. I guess I could get another book. Yeah, that is what I will do.

When I return with a new book, Ron and Hermione are giggling over a piece of paper. Ron notices I am back and looks away, probably embarrassed. Guys care too much about appearing manly. I found it quite cute.

What is not cute is the way boys act furious when a girl takes charge. Once Davey complained that I took too much control when we had sex one night. It was a disaster. He scooted away from me and would not talk to me for days. What a nancy boy.

"Harry, what's on your hand?" Ron's eyes are locked on Harry's hand. I placed it around the book while coming over to them.

I glance at Harry's hands. The one on the left bares a cut that sketches a brief sentence. "Um, my I must not tell lies tattoo."

"Tattoo?" Ron appears fearful now, his body shaking a little. "What do they do?"

"Their ink marks some people design on their skin with needles. They are mostly intricate designs," Hermione explains. "Many muggles find it a good way to express their personal identity."

"Neebyuls?" Ron face is etched with confusion.

"Needle, Ron," Hermione struggles to hide her laughter. "Sometimes I wonder."

I have no trouble. Good job ruining the non-magical language Ron. "That was hilarious. Neebhyuls. Where did that come from?"

"Anyways," Hermione says petulantly. "I'm more concerned with you lying Harry. I know that's not a tattoo. Who did that to you?"

No clue. What can I say? If I refuse, she would continue. If I state a name I put someone, an innocent person, on Hermione's bad list. "I don't remember."

"Oh Harry," Hermione cries and hugs me tight. "Why haven't you told us about that?"

I shrug my shoulders. I need to grasp her focus on something else. But on what? Oh, the paper she and Ron looked over a minute ago. I point to it. "What's that about? Can it help Ginny?"

"Oh," Hermione replies, backing away from me to grab the paper. "It's a list on all the things I noticed was different about Ginny the other day. They prove that she is not normal."

"Proves the scumbag your calling Ginny is not Ginny," Ron interrupts.

"Maybe," Hermione responds, glancing at the book on the table. "I'm still uncertain that Ginny is really possessed. According to _Possessions: Can One Really Know, _a person whose possessed cannot walk straight or interact normally with other people. Ginny is walking fine and I talked to her yesterday. I noticed many different characteristics, but nothing that pointed out problems with communication."

"That's what the list's about," Ron explains. "Details everything blimy thing the whatever that is possessing Ginny is doing wrong."

I grabbed the list and laughed while I read. "I saw her in the library. Ginny hates staying at the library on a school day. She spoke very slowly and quietly. Ginny's a loud, fast talker. She grimaced instead of smiled in Harry's direction. She snarled at another muggle-born. She lounges when she walks instead of strutting. She laughed with a group of boys making raunchy jokes. Oh Hermione your as good as Marlene."

Marlene simply created the best lists to help us sort out our problems. She cheered me up with her "What's Coming Next" list after I ended my friendship with Severus. I will forever remember number 22 on the list, smashing potion ingredients in the dungeons. Without Severus I felt nothing about destroying his favorite products. Oh that was a wonderful night. Marlene, Alice and I laughed as we drizzled octopus powder on the Slytherin's door and muddled a mix of Bubotuber pus and Horklump juice over the path in front of Professor Slughorn's office. It was exhilarating. All my stress ran away. And, unlike prankers, we did not target anyone.

"Who's Marlene?" Hermione asks.

"Um. A friend." Wait. What if I said my name? If I can, I could point to myself. "Lily Evans's best friend." Yes. Yes. Yes. I can say my name!

"Who's Lily Evans?" Ron questions this time.

They both stare at me, waiting. Hermione is eager and Ron is impatient.

"I'm…" The guck emerges in my throat when I try to say my name this time. Okay, no I'm.

"Harry." One of them gasps. I do not care enough to know whom.

I breathe in, trying to ignore the disgusting taste in my mouth. I stuff the disgusting matter beneath Harry's tongue. "Lily Evans." It comes out sounding similar to a burp and gruff. I point to myself.

Ron and Hermione just stare.

"Tissue," I gulp.

Hermione thrusts one in my direction. Thank goodness she had one in her bag. I heave into it and try again. Ron and Hermione still do not understand why I pointed to myself.

"Why are you going on about this Lily person?" Ron drops into a chair. "Your speaking nonsense, mate."

"Never mind," I huff. Looks like I need to figure out a way to prove the truth that these two can understand. "Lets continue looking for stuff related to possession."

"Sounds good," Hermione says before moving to sit next to Ron. She returns to her book as quick as a fly.

Ron just shakes his head. "Nothing useful in these books. Only one person knows the truth. The possessing bastard. Lets talk to him."

"Ron," Hermione groans, pushing the book in front of his face. "Its best to do this investigation stealthily."

"When has doing it that way helped us in the past? Huh?" Ron retorts. "We've never know about the stone if we never asked Hagrid. Oh, when we defeated the basilisk, we better do it without engaging with it, is that how you feel?"

Hermione cries, "I know what you mean. But in this case walking up to a dangerous being that can possess someone is a horrible idea. It will just make our enemy more careful."

I break in. While I agree with Ron that it is best to talk straight up to solve a mystery, I know that my best interest is to keep them away from Regulus until I can prove that he is not dangerous. "Lets work with the books the next three days. If we can't figure out what's going on by then, let's talk to him."

"All right," Hermione agrees.

Ron shakes his head. "Sometimes I wonder why I listen to you Harry. But okay, I'll wait. But in no way am I'm happy about it."

Well Ron, its best to learn that things cannot always result the way a person wants. If that was true, Severus would have rejected the muggle-born hating Slytherins, Potter would ignore me, and Davey would enjoy, what he labeled, my domineering personality.


	6. Chapter 6

AN- MissSadieKane and NatNicole: Thank you for your reviews! I'm glad you find it original NatNicole.

Chapter 6: Ginny

I despise silence. It's too lonely, too empty. Nothing happens in silence. Nothing can be hidden. My luck turned sour the past two days. How could I once think there was nothing worst than waking up in a boy's body? True, it's a hassle to go to the bathroom now. I feel weird standing up and trying not to stare. I want to flick my fingers through my long red hair and grin at my freckles. Instead, I see only dim grey eyes, and wavy black hair, thick around the ears. All that is horrible, but the silence is worst.

After one afternoon I discovered that Regulus's life is full of quiet. The unnerving kind that now toys with my resolve. I want to yell, but into the conversations by all the people who treated me with a disinterest glance.

My life is full of noise. A tale where one moment I flirt with Michael, the next moment I chitchat with my many friends, and I end the day with late night conversations at the dorm. A delightful rhythm of movement where I hear fun stories, not some worrisome murmurs in my mind. _You're pointless. You're obnoxious. Harry doesn't care about you. Michael finds you boring. _

I wasted the last two days doing fruitless plans. I am stuck with no clue how to return to where I belong. I tried to see Professor Dumbledore, but Professor Sprout told me he was traveling this weekend. She also frowned at me, a sure sign of distrust. Curse my Slytherin persona. Professor Dumbledore would probably act the same way. When I tried researching in the library, I soon threw the books off the table, frustrated at the thought no answers resulting from my reading. Madam Pince pushed me out of the library after that. I actually enjoyed our shouting match by the doors. For the first time since this disaster started I felt like myself.

It is now Monday morning and I linger alone at the Slytherin table. I chomp on some toast. The bread sticks to the side of this body's throat, so I swallow some water fast. My fellow students still ignore me, busy with their conversations. I should be glad I don't have to interact with Slytherins. But, I'm not. I need someone to talk to.

Bless my prayers. Two boys decided to sit on either side of me. They are the ones on the Slytherin Quidditch team who played with their brooms before the game. I draw a blank at their names.

"Why so blue Regulus?" The first boy brushes his bangs off his forehead. His elbow tips a fork to a plate next to him. "Last I heard we won the game and I didn't see you all night."

The other boy laughed. "Oh no, he was busy with the Mudblood chick, haven't you heard? Reggie now digs that redhead tramp."

The first boy snorts. "Aunt Druella and his mother are going to be so mad."

"Cut it Rosier," a girl a few seats away shouts. "A Gryffindor started the rumor. It's obviously not true. And there is nothing wrong with Muggleborns, geez."

Rosier grins, his teeth bare. "Oh Greengrass, shut your trap. I'm talking to my cousin. Not a muggle-loving twit."

Now I recognize the girl. The name draws me to remembering Astoria Greengrass, the diva who enjoys ruining my plants during Herbology. Same withy blond hair and upturn nose. She will most likely become Astoria's aunt.

Greengrass snaps, "You're just uncomfortable that I am more open-minded than you. If you every worked that measly brain of yours you would notice the ridiculousness of your notions."

Rosier moves to pat Greengrass on the head. "Poor, muggle-loving fool."

Greengrass shoves Rosier to the grown. She yells, a furious scream, "Stay the bloody hell away from me."

Suddenly a group of Slytherins circle Greengrass. Rosier joins in. They all start cursing at Greengrass.

What the? She just said something and now they are ganging up on her. But what can I expect from Slytherins. _But she's a Slytherin. _My inner voice reminds me. _She believes differently from all of them. She's different. _

Greengrass is now screaming. I must move. I need to help her. I intrude the circle, flashing the first spells that come to mind. "Studify, Pertrificus Totalus."

A few of the gang fall and the rest turn to me. They stare at me, all wide-eyed, confused. From an open window between two of the Slytherins, I see Greengrass lying on the floor, a horrible gash on her side, blood drips from the cut onto the floor. Her face hangs loose, pale like a doll.

They raise their wands when Rosier's friend steals Regulus's wand with a quick swipe. A burst of pain wrangles Regulus's jaw thanks to Rosier's friend's firm elbow.

"Calm down. Calm down," Rosier's friend commanded. "We're all feeling too rowdy this morning. My cousin Black here was just protecting his friend. A misguided effort, but we all know how a bloke can lose himself thanks to a pretty girl."

The Slytherin gang nods. Rosier speaks for them. "Just don't do it again. Flint can't protect you forever Black."

That little monster deserves the worst pain I can give. I slap him across his face. Once I figure out the Bat Boogey Hex I will hit him good for everyday I am stuck in this place.

"She should now better," Rosier says softly.

"That gives you no right to hurt her." I spit on his face.

I glare at the rest of the gang and walk to Greengrass. Her lets out a rough groan and her lips twitch at the sight of me. Flint comes to my side and recommends, "Lets bring her to the Hospital Wing."

That's a good idea. I only wonder why the staff refrained from helping. Maybe they are busy. I turn towards the High Table. The staff over there is simply laughing as they read their newspapers or talk with their colleagues. How could they ignore what just happened? Don't they care about a person in need?

Well, Professor Flitwick does. He's coming over now. Far too late.

555

In her office, Madam Pomfrey rushes through her cabinets to find some potions. The doors to the abandoned cabinets creek as Flint and I share an awkward moment of silence. We stand in the Hospital Wing near Greengrass despite Madam Pomfrey's order that we leave a minute ago. While Flint refuses to look at Greengrass, I remain fixated at Greengrass's appearance. A ball of red blood clings where the cut on her side dried up. Her face slowly turns yellow, while her eyes stay closed. At peace, at least I hope.

"You can go," I offer. Caring for another must be unusual for him. Especially dealing with all the intricacies involved in helping an injured person. I came here enough for my friends to create a routine. One where I stay until Madam Pomfrey forces me out by a rough push.

"Yes, I guess I will," he whispers.

Moments after I hear the door click shut, Madam Pomfrey returns to start healing, fully concentrated on her work. I guess she is not too rough in her earlier years as matron. She is definitely not as scary, with her youthful heart-shape face. After a few minutes of watching, a boy appears at my side. A piece of his shiny blond hair tickles Regulus's neck.

"This isn't because of you. That group planed it in advance. You know this has been happening for those outspoken for months." I guess he wants to comfort me.

One look at him, and I see Astoria grinning her wicked smile. "You're her brother." I blurt it only to clarify my assumption.

"Stupid, Moira, babbling that traitorous rubbish." The Greengrass boy spit on the ground. He grabs her hand. "I couldn't stop it. You see, I wasn't in the room. I can't always help her. I wish I could, but you know how it is."

His earliest comments irk me. Did Moira go up to them and ask them to hex her until she fainted?

Yet, I can connect to the rest, to his want of involvement his sibling's problems. Every time I watch them suffer alone, I fight the sorrow within me. Sometimes, I listen to Ron scream in his sleep about small animals watching him, spiders picking at his skin. I often wake him up, hoping for him to reveal his secrets, hoping that he would involve me in his next adventure. He always shoves me out.

"I just don't get it," I admit. "Why no one noticed. It was right there in front of them and the teachers did nothing."

The Greengrass boy snorted. "The teachers never care about us. You know that."

"What?" That does not coincide with my experiences. Where Professors broke up fights everywhere. They may take sides, like Snape, but they do interfere. But those people worked in another era, a different Hogwarts. Personal responsibility must be different in the seventies.

"You also know the importance of neutrality. Before today you always remain silent during those incidences. You know that we must stand by our families, protect our lineages. What happened today was an insult to your past resolve."

So, Regulus remained silent. He allowed people to do whatever without a care. What a coward. But the Greengrass boy has a point. I need to act like Regulus if I want to stay safe, if I want to keep the timeline the same. No matter how much I hate myself for it.

But, can I? Can I act like that? Can I say rubbish I don't believe?

No. No I will not.

555

When I walk into the Transfiguration Classroom, Professor McGonagall scowls at me. "Late, Mr. Black. Detention tonight with me."

"I was helping …" I begin.

"It matters not why you're late, Mr. Black. Your classmate's O.W.L.S are soon approaching. You may not care if you pass, but Miss. O'Bernie and Mr. Patil surely do."

Bollocks, the least she could do was listen to my explanation.

A girl in the front row snickers as she straightens her sandy hair. Next to her, a handsome, dark-skinned boy stares at the ground. He shifts his legs from a crossing position to them flat on the ground. I focus on the girl, waiting for her to stop that annoying noise.

"You really should refrain from annoying sounds," I tell the girl blandly. I mimic her snicker. A few students laugh. Mostly Slytherins.

Behind me, Professor McGonagall clicks her tongue. "Sit down, Mr. Black. Or do you want another detention?"

I take a seat next to a boy I recognized from the Slytherin Quidditch team, the one with the word 'owl' in his last name. I really need to find out all these names soon, before I am stuck with accidently calling them wrong names. That, at least, is manageable, unlike finding a way home. The boy, who I will call Owl, grins at me, tapping on the dinner plate on his desk.

"We're still turning plates into mushrooms," Owl shares. "Such a drag."

The girl with sandy-hair slams a plate on my desk so hard I feel Regulus's eardrum twitch. "Don't you dare mimic me again."

"Don't you dare mimic me again." I laugh. How unoriginal, she's asking to be mimicked.

Bill often says I should embrace this talent of mine and I agreed. It's the best way to annoy people who want to hurt others.

"Saoirse," some girl calls from the front row. "I need help. You can bother the slimey snakes later."

Saoirse provides me a slick smile before she returns to her friend.

Dust puffs off the plate and into Regulus's nose. I sniffle a little sneeze. Seems like Professor McGonagall wants to punish me with the worst plate ever. I never really enjoyed changing something's shape and now its worst because I am lost. The last thing I did in Transfiguration was cause a guinea fowl to turn yellow while my classmates achieved finished guinea pigs. Visualizing something is far from my strong suit. But, at least, in my life, I receive nice equipment and animals to transfigure.

Luckily, Owl is uninterested in practicing the spell. He wants to talk. "See, Reg, I'm sorry for ignoring you the past few days. I shouldn't have believed that rumor."

So Regulus actually has friends. I tilt Regulus's head. "What rumor?

Owl gazes at me, his eyebrows high against his forehead. "There it is again."

What a typical Slytherin behavior; to try to change a conversation to fit their need. "What rumor?" I repeat with a nasty tone.

"That you're bagging a mudblood." Owl explains. "I mean, I barely believed it, but Mulciber when psycho and ordered everyone to stay away from you."

"I don't get it," From what little I learned about Sirius brother, he hated Muggleborns. Why would he date one? And, didn't this boy say earlier … "Didn't you say you believed the rumor?"

What is wrong with these people with all this blaming others for their choices? It was the Slytherin's gang's choice to her Moira, not hers. It was Owl's choice to believe in the rumor, not Mulciber's.

Owl thrusts his face forward, and inches closer to me. "I was scared all right. You know what Mulciber does to his enemies. I had to be careful."

"So you admit it was your fault?" I slide away from his steaming breath.

"Yes." Owl nods. "I know you'd never like a mudblood, especially a girl one."

"Good." That is a relief. Wait, what did the next part mean? Why would Regulus not like a girl?

"At least Peneus will notice you now. I bet he'll ask you out at lunch." Owl grins, delighted by his idea.

"Who's Peneus?" I have an idea, but I want to be sure.

"Only the boy you liked since third year." Owl hoots a laugh, appears like he earns his nickname. "Moira's brother."

So I'm right. The Greengrass boy is Peneus. It is also nice to know that I can look at boys without Owl thinking I'm weird.

"Now can I ask a question?" Owl asks.

"Sure."

"Why did you slap Mulciber? If you're going to act like a foul Muggle then at least punch." Owl flushes pink. "I never pictured you as a girl."

Misty squid testicles, there are gender appropriate ways of hitting?

555

It is simple, really, to discern the hierarchy of these Slytherins. One look at the boys heading my way, and I am certain the three boys are the leaders. They talk with a sense of urgency. One glance from the three of them, and someone would turn away, abashed. Even Rosier and Flint, who are most likely Seventh years, especially since they walk with practice NEWT scrolls tucked under their armpits. Rosier and Flint shake slightly the moment the three boys walk past them. Flint even drops his chicken leg on his robes.

I recognized one of these three Kings of Slytherin. His sallow face flakes tiny scars. His face may be youthful, unlike the face I know from every terrible potions lesson, but I am certain he is Snape. Expressionless, Snape flanks the taller of his two friends. Snape's taller friend provides a wiry smile to every Slytherin they pass. Snape's short friend licks his lip at the sight of each dessert. He even snatches a cup of trifle from an eating student; some cream falls on the poor child's shirt.

They stop in front of where I eat with Owl and a boy named Wilkes. At the beginning of lunch, Wilkes apologized for the silent treatment. I just shrugged my shoulders, more interested in chewing some chicken, cheesy biscuits and apples, basically every food item in front of me. Now I understand why my brother's devour so much food. I'm so famished.

Snape's taller friend stays standing and nods to me. Snape and his other friend sit down across from my friends and me. "Regulus Black," Snape's taller friend says in a monotone.

Hoping I say the right name, I reply, "Mulciber."

"Good game Saturday. We were impressed with your work." Mulciber reveals a sick grin, a grin I seen on only one other person's face. His grin promises pain and orders obedience. I know better than to mess with a person with that expression.

"Thank you." He did compliment my Quidditch ability.

Mulciber taps Snape on the shoulder. Snape says, "We'd like to invite you to a game of H.A.M this Friday night."

Snape's other friend joins in, "Wear a blindfold in our common room at eight. We'll be waiting."

And then they leave.

Wilkes tears apart a biscuit and Owl pats me on the back.

"I can't believe it," Owl shouts. "You were really invited. I want to be invited. You have to tell me everything."

I shrug. Something tells me I will not like the game of H.A.M. Hopefully, the game will only involve a ham eating contest. Yeah right. What am I thinking? It will be dangerous.

"Ahkkkkkk." Suddenly, the whole Slytherin table screams, including me. A blast of pumpkin juice splattered all over all of us. The jugs containing the juice start to fly and squirt the juice too.

From across the hall I can hear the other houses howling. I turn to find three boys fist bumping. A boy next them, with hair even more disheveled than Harry's, waves his wand at us, obviously orchestrating the whole prank.

So Harry's father was a pranker? Awesome! Though I wish Regulus's hands were not freezing. I could do without all the liquid.

Owl snips bitterly, "Those foul Gryiffindors. Who do they think they are?"

"Prankers," I reply, giggling. The pumpkin juice spells out "Flobberworms. Scary" behind him.

Owl raises his neck. "This is no laughing matter."

"Oh yes it is," My laughter receives stares many Slytherins. "Are you really scared of Flobberworms?"

"There disgusting little creatures," Owl spats. "Always going into and ruining my bags. Why?"

Wilkes gasps, noticing the words. "Merlin, what's behind me?"

"Giants. Yikes," I yell.

Wilkes laughs and says, "Yours is Stairs. Oh no."

Owl is laughing now. The three of us share a laughing spree. With my head against the table, since I want to end my uncontrollable laughter, my mind pictures a scene where slim covers Harry on the Hogwart's Express. Hmm, a little retaliation would be nice.

I raise my head. My laughter subsides. "Let's get back at them."


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does. **

**AN- ****First, I want to warn that this chapter includes a period.**

**Guest- Thank you for your review. I can't wait to share the scene where Harry and Ginny figure out about each other. But first they will both struggle through a few events. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. **

Chapter 7: Regulus

A small list in a middle of a book glares at me.

_Death Eaters: _

_Sirius Black- Imprisoned. _

_Regulus Black – Decease 1979_

_Barty Crouch Jr.- Decease 1981 _

_Antonin Dolohov- Imprisoned. _

The names continue with more and more disheartening news. Poor Marvin, dead when he was only seventeen. At least I lived until I was nineteen. And wow, Sirius saw the light. I wonder what happened.

On the page before, the book claims us as brutal monsters, just because we lost the war. It ridicules us with the name Death Eaters. We are so much more. I know we are. I spent so many nights with these people working on spells so we could join the Dark Lord's group called the Knights of Walpurgis, not Death Eaters. I bet a blood traitor came up with that name to ridicule us. Some person who misinterpreted our affinity for Dark Magic as bad, and not necessary, like it is. All we want is to preserve magic and keep the magical world strong, without those who stole magic. And this book misses our purpose completely.

I almost wish I decided to stick to researching possession books. I didn't because I found Evans, Weasley and the mudblood doing that in another corner of the library. I hate knowing that my friends and I failed. Maybe that is the purpose for my time here, to prevent all this from happening.

The book continues to detail horrific facts. Many Knights lie and claim they were forced to work for the Dark Lord. How could such a strong group become this? Become either cowards or inmates or dead.

None of this makes sense. I need my father. He would help me make sense of all this. When I was a child I wondered why my mother loved my brother more than me. She gave him the most attention and the most expectations. She left me alone with Kreacher. On one rare night when my father was not working he explained how mother loved Sirius more because he was the heir. He told me the importance of earning love. He told me that even though mother didn't love me enough then, she would love me for the right reasons once I did everything for the family. And I did, and the day she smiled down at me, teeth glittering, and toasted to my honor while my cousins, aunts and uncles cheered, everything made sense.

_Father I need you to explain why I'm in this horrible girl's body. Why did we loose the war? How can I prevent this? Please. Tell me. _

I rub Ginny's leg against the rough leg of the chair I sit on. A strange ache burned down near Ginny's vagina. _Oh, no._ I hate this. I'm not a woman. I shouldn't be experience this, this, this, agony.

The pain stretches everywhere down there. _Shite. This can't be happening. This can't be…_ This isn't my life.

I shouldn't smell this horrible urine-like scent. I can hardly breath the smell is that disgusting.

I press against the desk, hoping for the horrible feeling to pass, for the smell to fade, although I know it won't, I seen Bella and Cissy suffer this experience enough.

"_The first day is always the worst." _Cissy sometimes whispered those words to Bella and I laugh, believing I would never have to experience that.

Cissy. Cissy. Come help me.

_Help yourself. Help yourself. _I can hear dad telling me. _Why do you deserve anyone's pity? Be a man. Be a Pureblood, not a Mudblood. _

I open my eyes and see a few curious glances from a group of girls near my desk. At my glare, they turn away and start talking loudly. I walk pass them, their voices high and rattling. Can't they talk softer? What's with girls and talking like banshees?

The girls still watch me. They must wonder why I stumble across they library. The librarian must too. She looks nervous, her hands snapping her book open and close.

More pressure hinds against Ginny's upper legs. I arrive at a bathroom, my breath hot; sweat dwindles down Ginny's elbows. Before today, I accepted the fact that I must sit on the toilet, but I refrained from looking at the girl bit below. I didn't feel comfortable with the idea. It seemed too invasive. I already had to live in her body. Even though she is a blood traitor, she doesn't deserve to have a stranger look over all of it.

Okay. I must handle this quick and easy. I move to bring the robes up from the body's legs in one of the stalls when I hear someone call my name.

"Regulus. It's Lily. I saw you stumbling out of the library. You got your period, right? God that must be weird. What you need …"

"I don't need your help Mudblood," I yell from inside the stall. "Go away. I'll figure it out myself."

"Stop being stubborn Black." Her voice is now angry. Good. "All you need to do is open the cabinet above the girl's toilets. Some witch's dilapsos should be in it."

"Witch's dilapsos?" The question comes from my lips before I can stop it. I'm shocked by such a strange name.

"Yes, you put it on your underwear in the middle. I love them, they are like pads, what muggles's use, but the blood and smell immediately slips away once they sink in."

"Yuck. Stop talking, Mudblood. No need to be so detailed."

Evans laughs. "Who knew Purebloods were such prudes."

As much as I hate to follow the advice of a mudblood, I can see the benefit of using the witch's dilapso. After I put one on, I exit the stall and scrub Ginny's hands with soap. Some water splashes from the sink and onto my face. I mean this face. I stare at Ginny's face in the mirror. It looks red, in a bad sunken way, and her brown eyes flicker with crud.

Well, I feel like crap, look like crap, but at least the smell is gone. Great, now I'm actually caring about my appearance. The only time I ever did was when Peneus Greengrass stared at me after I was covered in goo, thanks to Sirius.

Evans waits for me outside the bathroom. She nods, obviously concerned. Like I need her to care.

"Go away," I order.

She pushes some messy hair from her eyes. "It's eating me inside pretending around everyone. Its hurting so much, this lying."

"No its not. You just want to feel good about yourself." I hate that she thinks just because she helped me she can confide with me. And I know that she only cares about her reputation. She left Severus to the dust, after all.

She sighs. "Maybe I do. Maybe. But we need to work together. We need to find a way to tell everyone what's going on."

"You know. I'm surprised you hadn't told anyone yet. Its pretty easy, you just say it." Opps. Now she's going to tell everyone. Ok. I need to stay calm and get the mudblood on the right path. "But before you do, think of the consequences. We would be scorned by the school if they all knew we were processing these bodies."

"I know. There are consequences. But we need to tell someone. Dumbledore, maybe. And I can't just say it. Something is preventing me from talking about it directly to anyone but you."

How absurd. She found an excuse so she doesn't feel horrible about pretending to be someone else. "Whatever you want to believe Evans. Stop bothering me."

I brush pass her, fighting the urge to throttle her. I can't let my anger overcome me. I need to stay smart. Hurting her will only bring complications. Who knows what story the school's gossip mill will make about me pushing Harry Potter.

"Eventually we need to work together." She yells after me. Screw her and her filthy existence.

Soon, I relax against the wall in another corridor. The library can wait. I bet Weasley, the bushy-haired mudblood and the group of girls are still there. I like this quiet corridor. The cold wall feels nice and for a few moments I can let my wander.

Ginny's roommates tried to talk to me earlier today. They wanted to chat about boys, teachers and other nonsense. They bugged me about not brushing my hair or cleaning my face. I laugh remembering their alarmed faces when I ignored their advice.

If only I was with my dorm mates. We would spend our time in the dorm dueling, not wasting time with pointless chatting. I almost beat Tim during our last scuffle. I just needed to flash my Protego faster and to have bent my knees in a better angle.

"Dear, are you feeling well?" A high-pitched voice interrupts my musings. I recognize the person now standing in front of me from scene at the Great Hall. She is the woman who shrieked at the Jordon boy that made a mockery of possession. Her lips swirl up, as if she hopes for it to appear like a smile.

"Yes. Thank you for your concern," I answer politely. I can tell from her confident stance that I must be careful around her.

She nods. "It must be difficult for you to handle all those despicable rumors that are spreading around. Its most unfortunate how creative your classmates can act."

"It sure is." Maybe, I should imply that someone else could be trying to harm me. I start with this woman and continue with Ginny's dorm mates. The more I do that, the sooner I wouldn't have to deal with the rumors. Yes. That sounds like the best way to fix my original error of brashness. "I think its someone who doesn't like me. Especially since another person could just easily be the one possessed."

"How true, darling. Say you like a cup of tea?" She beams down at me, like I gave her a brilliant idea.

Her gaze is now a bit startling. I can't help but think I gave her something I shouldn't. I must be careful with this teacher from now on. "Sure."

A few minutes later, I sip some tea and listen to the woman talk about how the awful Potter boy ruined her first lesson with the fifth years. Though I wonder why she babbles on about it, I'm just glad she gave me an excuse to look around her office.

Many pictures of cats graze the walls. An orange tabby cat meows at me, its paw scratching against the frame.

"So what should I do to ensure they're no more interruptions in my classes? I'm sure you know what your peers respect."

"Oh," I say. "We respect someone who's confident like you are."

"But what else? I know your revelation of your true feelings on blood traitors and half-breeds was hard enough for you to express, but I hope you can move farther in the correct direction."

I gaze into her eyes. She hopes to gain something from me. I know that. She wants something and I don't want to give her anything. Again and again I am making mistakes. First, I reveal I'm an imposter. Then, I enter the office of a woman with a plan, a dangerous plan. But I can't loose hope. There must be away for me to turn all my wrong choices into an advantage. I simply need to create a good plan.

"I know what you mean. I never felt I was freer than I am now. Unfortunately, I don't know enough to help you. Good evening."


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does. **

Chapter 8: Harry

Once again I race to reach the veil. I can feel it in my grasp as it floats against a wall nearby. Yet, suddenly I can't control my body. Instead of following my directions, it my legs sprint through the room, into an empty hallway and into a new room containing stacks of orbs. They create a hazy glitter my body ignores as it moves across an aisle. No. I want to move the other way. My body stops and a prickling sensation weaken my legs. Painfully, I walk away from the orbs, no longer passive. I can return to the veil again!

"Achoo,"

That sound returns me to back to the Gryffindor common room. While I slept, people returned to the room. Many people's voices clamor nearby. They sound faintly familiar. While the fire from fireplace calms me slightly, my mum's red hair itches as it drifts against her neck, my neck. Whatever I should call it. She is very pretty, but I wish I could see her on my album instead. Not only is it awkward walking around in her body, but I also want to see my mother as myself. If only I time traveled normally. I would be having fun with her and her friends and dad and his.

Instead, my life the last two days moved from one awkward moment after another. First when Marlene mentioned Sirius, I said something positive that caused her to think I was insane. Then, Alice mentioned a summer trip and I said I wished I went to Rome too, not knowing that mum went on that trip. I am thoroughly tired of them raising their eyebrows and looking at me funny. Thank goodness, Professor McGonagall asked me to stay behind after Transfiguration and Marlene and Alice listened to my request to go to lunch without me. I really needed this time alone.

"… like a rotten fish. That awful."

"I told you not to throw that Dungbomb." Barking laughter follows those words.

"How was I supposed to know the Slytherins would throw soup all over Remus?"

Lupin? I must be listening to dad and his friends!

"Oh come off it, you knew they would." A third voice enters the conversation.

"They threw soup before?" A fourth voice sounds amazed and way too squeaky. _Wormtail. _"I thought it was only the tarts."

The four voices laugh a cheerful harmony. A ragged smell disrupts the peaceful moment. "Ugh. Go take a shower, you animal."

"Relax. I was planning too."

Its simply nice to listen to them talk so relaxed. I often wondered how the Marauders would interact, and this is all I could hope for. I'm a bit worried they would notice me there. I don't think I can handle talking to my father. Not with him thinking he's talking to mum.

"I still can't believe our prank failed." One of the voices groans bitterly. "The sight of those Slytherin tossers laughing during our prank just ruined everything."

"I know." Another responds.

I laugh. I can't help it. It's funny to hear them complain about a prank leading to laughter. I can never imagine the twins doing that.

"Whose there?"

I immediately become very warm as I hear footsteps coming to where I am. I turn to see myself. Well, my father, but the familiar messy-hair looks just like how I appear in front of a mirror. I can't help but stare as I see a face, so close to mine, just a bit more angular and a bit less strained, right in front of me.

Dad grins while I look like a fool, all starstruck and terrified.

"Oi, Evans!" He says cheerfully.

Evans? Who's Evans? _Evans. Evans. _Oh, Mum.

Sirius and Wormtail are now near me too, both leaning near the fireplace, their arms crossed. The rat smiles, cheeks crooked with joy. How dare he act so relaxed and copy Sirius's demeanor.

"Did I really hear you laugh?" Dad exclaims louder. His hands twitch against my chair's arm. "That's a first. What was so funny about it? Just so I know, next time."

"Er," I struggle to speak, needing to say something. Dad comes nearer to sit on my chair's arm and waits patiently. Sirius now stares past me, obviously bored. It's strange to see Sirius act indifferent towards me. Sure, he was displeased during our fireside chat a few weekends ago, but at least then he cared in some way. But I shouldn't think too much about that now. I need to show them that mum is not awestruck by their presence. So I blurt, "I always thought the point of pranking was making people laugh. So actually your prank was, er, a success."

Dad's grin broadens. "Splendid. That's just splendid to hear. So what do you say to you and me at the Astronomy Tower tomorrow night?"

Wormtail snickers, shaking his head. Sirius remains unmoving, poised.

This is just horrible. If only mum was here. She could say yes to the date and begin a relationship. But I can't. What if when I say no it means there relationship will never be. I can't have that happen. But I can't say yes either. I hate these situations with no good solution. Why do they have to happen to me? Why?

"No, thank you," I whisper. Hopefully I didn't ruin everything. One no can't hurt. It just can't.

Awkwardly I jump off the chair and hurry to the girl's staircase. With difficulty, knowing dad must be watching, I escape into the empty corridor and started to walk up the staircase.

Yet, I don't feel like sitting in mum's dorm room. So I decide to lean against the wall. I wonder what it would be like to go to the Astronomy Tower with Cho. Would she cry the whole time or smile like she did last week? At some point, in that dream date, she would lean against me and I would finally know what her lips feel like.

"What you smiling about?" Some girl with frizzy hair asks.

"Nothing," I reply. Its not like I can talk about Cho or what to with some stranger.

"Don't deny it." The girl giggles. "You were thinking about James Potter. You really need to stop playing with the poor boy's heart. He made so many blunders during the last game because of you, you know."

Her bright blue eyes stare at me intensely, scrutinizing.

"I was thinking about someone else, someone from home." It's just not right, me saying I like my father in a romantic way.

"Tosh." She shakes her head with a wide smirk. "Don't hold out on me. I saw that lovesick smile on you before, right after Gudgeon asked you out. Before you figured out how buggered he was, of course. So you really need to stop yelling at him every time he asks you. You're quite petty, hurting him with your words, calling him a no-good bully. Snapping at him during his pranks. You really need to cool it down. You're living every munted girl's dream, after all."

No one insults my mother. I snap, "So what if she said no. She's free to do what she wants."

"Talking about yourself in third person, are you." The girl slaps my mum's arm cheerfully. "You're really going crazy."

"I'm not crazy." Great, I forget I appear to be my mum for one second and I'm back to sounding bonkers. "Why must everyone call me crazy."

The girl grins, clearly unaffected by my temper. "Don't worry, Lily, we all turn insane when were in love." She sighs with a fake wisp. "Or is it Regulus Black you're in love with. I heard you were talking after the game. Really, I don't know who I'd choose between them. They're both so minted and handsome and, aw, I heard Black knows how to rumble right. I definitely would love to see him fight for me. And James's almost as good."

So the gossip Alice and Marlene mentioned the other night must based on me chatting with Regulus Black. Sirius must have started it. He was listening.

"Well, I should get to class." The girl yells suddenly, slapping her forehead. "I can't miss Runes yet again."

555

My brain is so fried that I can't recall one moment from the next. Didn't I just finish the class where I failed to do yet another non-verbal spell? Or did I just wake up from another night of struggling to go through that veil? Whatever just happened, whatever I just did, I now hear my mother's classmates laughing, most likely at me, as we wait for someone. Someone late.

Alice shuffles in her seat next to me while Marlene and Mary chatter behind us. Orange peels linger on top of the desk at the front of the room. Along with crumbs and dripping brown stains. The person who this classroom belongs to should really clean his space.

"No one's laughing at you," Alice whispers to me.

I shrug. Of course they are. I was the only one unable to cast a non-verbal spell, after all.

"Really," she continues. "Not being able to speak is getting us all."

"But you are able to do it. You all are." And I'm just a fifth year, trying to survive a horrible past. If I only I could sleep and try to make it home again.

"And you were able to do it just last week. And Rigby and Pettigrew and twenty others still suck at it."

"Well Wormtail's an idiot," I growl. "And the rest probably are too."

I turn to find that scoundrel grin and talk to Sirius. The rat giggles a horrible sound. His round cheeks curled with laugh-lines. I rub my mum's head. I wish I wasn't watching that traitor be so happy. He should be crawling in the sewers. I wonder how my father would react if I turned Wormtail into a rat right now and threw him out a window.

"True that," Alice laughs and begins to tell a funny story where someone named Rigby acted like an idiot.

I try to listen to her story, but I don't really care about someone I don't know. Not with Dad standing near a table and talking to a tall girl, whose curly light brown hair hits his shoulders. It hurts my gut seeing him talk to a girl whose not my mum. The girl smiles at Dad, not noticing Dad raising his eyebrows at Lupin, who is busy scribbling on parchment. A few seconds later, Lupin takes a break from writing to reciprocate.

The girl groans, a deafening, throaty one that causes me to rub mum's ears. "Just agree already James. Ravenclaw needs to practice tonight. Just give us the field."

My mum's ears bristle harsher.

"Caroline, bugger off." Dad turns to Lupin, "Oi, Remus, care to tell her why?"

"James," Lupin responds. A quill falls from his hand when he bolts up and heads towards dad. "How many times have I told you to shut your trap when I'm working"

"I know. I know," Dad sighs. "I just wish you were fine with me announcing your date with Rosie tonight."

Lupin laughs. "How I wish that was so."

"What does that have to do with you not giving us the field?" Caroline kicks her foot onto the floor.

"Absolutely nothing." He glances at the front desk before he continues with, "Well, how about this. Ravenclaw could have the field or..." Dad bends his head down and whispers to Caroline. I can hear some of his words faintly. "We. Maybe. Dawn."

The girl sways - trying to look cute I bet - and nods her head.

This is horrible. What if Dad and Caroline marry instead of mum and him? And they have a kid with her eyes. And Voldemort is never defeated. And mum dies alone, all because of me.

Dad's head turns from the girl and glances at me, giving me a wink. I immediately wretch my mum's head, embarrassed. Perfect. Now dad probably thinks mum is a stalker.

I find Alice now quiet. She must have quit talking when she noticed I stopped listening. "What's that about? Why are you staring at_ Potter_?" She emphasizes my last name with a disgusted tone.

Before I could respond a screeching sound echoes throughout the room. I clasp my mum's hand against her ears. How I long for normal sounds, instead of everything amplified. I would love noises that trickled unlike the still screeching door. The situation worsens as more sounds enter the fray, the bellowing stomps of the man who just entered through the door and a rough slamming of the closing door. Dust drifts in his wake while he drops some papers on the floor.

"Come on and get you papers. No need to rush. They all were the dimmest hogwash I ever read." A few people start move forward when the man raises his hand to tell them to stop. "Actually Potter, do your thing. That be faster."

"Sure Professor Peel," Dad shouts.

The professor grunts, "Peelridge. Can't you kids get it right for once."

"Never." With that, Dad changes his attention to grab the essays from the floor. He began to call out a name in a dramatic tone before deciding a more creative technique. Soon the room becomes full of papers flying everywhere. Somehow they all reach the tops of desks and not on the floor. Impressive.

I'm surprise to see mum's paper received an 'E.' I guess the teacher was joking about the papers being awful. His comment is actually pretty nice, though I disagree with his criticism. I think its stupid to grade down just because a paper is long. Anyways, the comment states, "Excellent work discerning the differences between Mountain, River and Forest Trolls. I liked you idea about covering each troll with their least favorite element. You show good understanding of how hard it is to defeat these creatures. However, you paper exceeded the fifteen foot limit."

Caroline walks past my table to sit with a group of girls in the front row. After frowning at her paper she turns to talk to someone behind me. "Hey, Mary, what would Walker think about you hanging with McKinnon? You really should quit it."

Mary responds as loose tears fall down her face. "She would think it's nice that Marlene is not as bad as we thought."

"How dare you," Marlene snaps at the same time. "Using Piper against Mary. You really need to mind your business, Rigby."

"Don't worry about it," Mary whispers to Marlene. "I don't mind it. I'm getting better. I meant what I said. Piper would be happy you'd got over everything."

Woah. My mum's friend's history keeps turning more confusing. I guess I can now see that Mary is less close to mum because of some past event. But I need to figure who Piper is and why this girl seems to hate mum's friends. It would be amazing to learn more about the mystery of mum's past.

"McKinnon," Professor Peelridge yells. "Shut your trap, I'm trying to teach."

"But Peel, I wasn't the only…" Marlene starts to retort.

"I don't care about your silly schoolgirl brawls," Professor Peelridge snaps over her. "I just need them to stay outside of class like they belong. And it's Peelridge."

Marlene sighs and leans back in her chair. Alice and Mary give her a sad smile. Mary wipes some more light tears from beneath her eyes and on her cheeks.

"As I was saying," Professor Peelridge explained. "I need an essay on nundu's and your idea of how to fight one by next Monday. Fifteen feet. Hear me. _Fifteen feet._ And I don't need a hundred papers telling me your going to defeat them with a heavy rock. I need solid arguments here and at least some inkling of creativity."

Alice snorts quietly next to me. She shows me her essay where he complained about her idea to squirt the river troll with a boiling potion. "How can I get more creative then that. He's way to picky. Really an 'A' for that."

"… practice nonverbal Shield Charm. I need all of you to be ready to use them non-verbally for next week's duels. I give an automatic Acceptable or lower to anyone who can't." With those words, Professor Peelridge plops onto his chair and waves his left hand for us to start.

"How are we supposed to do it?" I ask Alice.

Alice shrugs, so we both glance behind to ask Marlene. She whispers to us, "Partners as usual. I'm with Mary. So you two can go."

"I can't believe we're doing yet another lesson of practice," Alice grumbles as we move to face each other.

"Er, I can't do nonverbals," I reply, not caring about her complaint.

"Oh, Lily," Alice whines. "Break out of your funk. You can do it. You did it just last week. A mighty fine shield if you ask me."

"This is not last week," I shout, my temper rising. I can't do any of this. I'm going to ruin my mother's reputation and be the failure Uncle Vernon always said I was. "I can't do nonverbals at all." What am I suppose to do? I can't do any of this NEWT level work.

"Lily, calm down," Alice grabs mum's hand and squeezes it. "You can do it. McGonagull must have given you some advice earlier."

"No she was just telling me I could go home this weekend."

"Cool!" Alice grins. Suddenly, she sits straighter and jumps in her seat. "Remember the trick you told me last week?"

I shake mum's head, feeling the dark red hair swish along her neck.

Alice looks up towards the ceiling with high concentration. "You said its all about first creating a clear head. So first I do that. And then you said I should imagine a shield before me and how it relates to the word 'Protego.' The shield offers a protection like "prote" and goes from within me like 'go.' Yes that's what you said."

Alice closes her eyes and slowly her mouth turns upwards into a calm smile. She raises her hand to point her wand upwards. A few minutes later a ghost-like shield appears from her wand. Wow. I never saw a shield so angelic before.

At that moment I realize a wand it's heading straight towards the back of Alice's head. Instinctively, I jump on top of her so the wand doesn't hit her. I hear a crack, but before I can check what happened, the zooming wand hits me.

In the next second I'm gone from that room. I'm in some mindscape. My mother stares at me, she looks exactly like the body I had worn. I look down to see myself floating in my own body. This can't be happening. I never thought much about where mum was while I acted as her. I didn't want to think about it. But now, I can't ignore this truth that mum was all alone in her mind.

Mum yells at me. "What the bloody hell is going on? Where am I?" And then she says quietly, "Are you Harry?"

"Yes, mum."

"Mum … I'm your mum … How could I? … That's why my eyes … Of all people…" Mum starts talking to herself, blinking wildly.

I watch her, unable to say anything else. This is her, right in front of me. I don't know what to do. How could I comfort her? I'd probably start a conversation worst than the one with dad. I am almost happy that an invisible tug now pulls me away from her.

When the tugging feeling abandons me, I open my eyes and find that everything is hazy. I see a yellow oval that looks like Neville. I have to be home. This nightmare must be over. "Neville," I whisper. "I'm back. I was mum. Where's Ron, Hermione."

"Professor Peel," A worried voice calls. "What's wrong with her?"

Peel. _Peelridge. _No. I'm still in mum's body and mum is still trapped.

"Calm down, kids," A tired sounding Professor Peelridge orders. "Miss. Taylor, take yourself and Miss. Evans to the Hospital Wing. The rest of you, return to practicing."

I feel a hand pull me up and while I stagger upwards I fall on top of a person's body. I feel soft hands on my wrists keeping me upright. "Got you," I hear Alice say cheerfully. "Follow me."

She drags me forward and I see the colorful mirage of blobs move sideways as I walk past. When I bump into a hazy red blob that decided to stay still, I yell, "Hey, I can't see clearly, can you slow down."

"Sorry," the blob says.

"I wasn't talking to you," I mutter to myself.

"I'm sorry, Lily." I feel a hand squeezing mine. "I just want to get out of here."

"Well all I can see is a hundred blobs."

"Must be nice."

"Yes they make delightful scenery. They blend really well together."

"Oi, Lily." Alice begins laughing. She sounds exactly like Neville when he laughs, very raspy.

"Its not like I'm enjoying this Longbottom."

Alice's grip tightens and she groans, "Why did you have to remind me?"

Many boy voices shout behind us. "Stalker! Stalker! Stalker!"

"Stop it, please," Alice struggles to cry over the many voices to no avail. She whispers to me. "Why can't they forget it? Why must I always be remembered as _that girl_?"

"Just go," A rough voice tells us. "I'll get them quiet. I need you to two leave quickly. I hope you get better Miss. Evans." Louder, he tells the rest of the class, "Out of their way. Move it students."

I hear feet shuffling around while Alice drags me away and through a door that I almost bang onto.

The walk to the Hospital Wing is very strained. Alice keeps mumbling about how annoyed she is and I keep reminding her to stop talking for a few moments whenever I find it impossible to move forward while seeing only hazy shadows.

Finally we make it to the Hospital Wing and I hear Madam Pomfrey call to us, "Miss. Taylor, you just had to break your arm again, and Miss. Evans, why are you walking so funny."

Well, every time I move a step, I slide because I can't see a thing.

Alice explains, "Lily noticed that a wand was about to hit me, so she pushed me down and accidently broke my elbow. The wand ended up hitting Lily on the forehead and somehow made her unable to see."

"I'll have you fixed in a jiff, Miss. Taylor." I hear Madam Pomfrey tisk under her breath, when we hear a yawn from the other side of the room. "Wait on that bed with Miss. Evans while I check on another patient."

And I'll continue even more minutes of torture, all the while knowing mum remains inside her head while I do nothing. There has to be something I could do. Maybe I can find out how to put myself in her mind and pull mum back in control in her body. She deserves more than me to live. Existing in a mindscape can't be any worst than the cupboard. I could even warn her about Wormtail before I fixed what I'd done.

"So whose Neville," Alice asks. I feel her toes tickle mum's feet.

"Just a friend."

"I like the way it slips off my tongue," Alice shares thoughtfully. "Why you think I was him, or is it a her?"

I was hoping you were Neville because that it meant Ron and Hermione were nearby. "You just sound similar, that's all."

"Sorry girls," I hear her feet stomping over. "My other patient is in worst shape. Sometimes I can't believe what you students do to each other." Madam Pomfrey announces pointedly.

"Sorry, Madam," Alice consoles her. "Lily and I always try to stop the bullying, but we can't be everywhere at once."

"I know, I'm very pleased who you girls. I just wished more would listen to you rather than some people," Madam Pomfrey explains. "I was here just ten years ago and everywhere I went my peers were fighting. I'm just glad Professor McGonagall is improving conditions better than the previous Deputy Head."

Alice giggles. "I heard Grallock could be awful. Giving out detentions to all the victims and never the bullies."

"Yes. Yes," Madam Pomfrey sighs. I hear her casting some spell and then, "Does that feel right, Miss. Taylor,"

"Yes. Thank you." I listen to a whacking sound that makes me think Alice is stretching her newly healed arm.

"And you Miss. Evans," Madam Pomfrey orders. "Take this Oculi Restoring Potion, it'll help your sight."

She's right. A few minutes later my sight begins to improve. The hazy blobs transform into some recognizable shapes and soon I see Alice perfectly again. Her elbows hang on her knees as she sits tense on the end of the bed.

"Miss. Taylor, you can leave. But Miss. Evans I'm unsure what exactly happened when the wand hit your forehead, so I need you overnight to make sure you remain fine."

"What? Nothings wrong now. Let me go," I insist. I hate the idea of another night stuck staring at the white ceiling. A whole night knowing I need to free my mother.

"I'm sorry, Miss. Evans," Madam Pomfrey stands straighter, her arms firmly on her side. "Your mysterious illness could be dangerous. I'm not taking any chances."

"Let me stay until dinner," Alice requests. "I have no more classes today."

Madam Pomfrey shrugs. "Ok. It's the least I could for all the good you girls done."

With that Madam Pomfrey leaves to her office and Alice makes her incessant chatter that pushes me off the edge. "Can you stop talking for one second?"

Her face stains into a grimace and she turns away, twitching her toes. I feel a bit ashamed at yelling at her, she just wanted to help. But with these ears and all the stress I'm having, I need this time to think. It's strange to find out Neville's mother has a completely different personality from him. I guess that makes sense with him growing up with his grandmother, without her. Worse, it's horrible to know that in a few years this nice, cheerful girl will lose everything. Lose her sanity.

**Author's Note:**

**Happy New Year everyone! I hope you enjoy the last two days of 2015! **

**I'm sorry with how long it takes me to update. I was so happy this morning to find I have a new follower and an update on my favorite story on this site this morning that I knew I must update today. I hope you enjoyed this long chapter. I hope to update before I leave to study abroad in London on January 8****th****, but I don't know if that will happen. Hopefully. **

**Some fanfiction recommendations I have to read while your wait for the next chapter. **

**Back In Their Day by 9CatsIn6Hats- This story is my favorite on the site. It has a fantastic, relatable main character, a realistic portrayal of what its like to join a school where everyone knows each other and realizing that war heroes are not the same people as their legend and many hilarious lines. This story is hard to not obsess over. **

**Proud by Summer Leigh Wind- I never liked any Vernon Dursley until I read this story. Now, I can't stop thinking of how Vernon could have been like if he had a chance to be a good person. This is a very powerful and moving story that needs to be read. **

**The Stygian Trilogy by Slide (Ignite, Starfall, Oblivion)- This complete Next Generation trilogy has everything I would ever want in a story. Amazing main characters, characters growing up in unpredictable ways and heartbreaking scenes. I'm still feeling teary about some of the events of this story, the choices the main characters had to make. This story is impossible to not become trapped in once you read it. **

**Lastly, I want to respond to Guest, my lovely ninth reviewer. Words can't say how much I appreciate how much you care about my story. I'm just giving you and the other readers a present of a sneak peek based on your wish for Harry and Ginny interactions. This scene is many chapters in the future and in Ginny's perspective. I hope you like it. **

Most of my brothers find sleeping on the ragged beds in the Burrow are the worst. I disagree. Our beds at least are comfortable and created by my loving, if not annoying, mother. Yes, sleeping on the floor of an abandoned classroom is far worst. The floor is hard, uncomfortable, and just plain itchy. But, no way am I staying near the disappointed stares of Regulus's dorm mates. I know I messed up last night, but I don't need their disdain or Owl promising theirs nothing I could ever do to make him hate me. And Owl's jokes about what would happen if they knew I liked boys only. No. No. No. All I need is this nice, empty room where I could pretend for a few minutes that my family is in the castle nearby.

Of course, Merlin never granted me a nice, easy life. I knew my time alone must end and with it the one person that makes me feel at home in this time entered my empty classroom. I guess that's not that bad. I just wish she were Harry.

"Er, er, sorry," Lily mumbles when she notices me lying on the floor. "I didn't think, er, anyone was here."

"No worries," I respond, smiling. "Come on over, I don't mind having you here."

"Really, I thought, er." She glances around the room, anywhere but me. "What are you doing here?"

I shrug, disappointed a bit by the obvious question. "Felt like being away from some furious Slytherins. You?"

Her eyes widen and I could imagine for a moment that Harry is the one looking at me with such care. Those green eyes always get to me; make me feel so, I don't know. Tongue-tied? Lustful? Chirpy?

"What happened? Did they hurt you? Because of me, right? Because we talked so openly."

"No, no." Wow, Harry must have got this always blame himself thing from his mother. "Their just angry I ruined a little game. The gossip doesn't matter much. Its just words, stupid stories people make to make their lives more exciting."

"You're lying." And there is a Harry-like accusatory stare, as gripping as a grindylow.

"Ok, maybe, I am. But it's not your fault that things became this outturn."

"Still they're forcing you out of your own dorm."

"So what, I'm perfectly fine here. Actually, I chose to be here." I smile at her. I appreciate her concern, but I'm perfectly fine with dealing with my problems on my own.

She taps on a desk, thinking for a few moments, then says, "I'll announce that the rumor's false, that get you out of this mess."

"I don't need your help." I hate how my gut is churning with fear. I can't let her know that I just to be here for more than my problems with Slytherins. I won't tell her that her future husband is involved in my arse load of problems. "And shouting to the world won't do either of us good. It'll just show that the gossip is affecting us."

"No, I won't stand by. You're my friend, even if only for a week."


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does. **

Chapter 9: Lily

"Er, Harry, can you move, please?"

"Oh," I reply, still transfixed by what just happened. "Sure."

I move away from the doorway of Harry's common room. I must have blanked out when I met Harry in that strange wasteland. I remember when I first saw my green-eyes on a face like Potter's. I noticed, but didn't really want to notice what that meant. I know do and I wish I could continue living without this knowledge of this possible future.

Great. There I'm at it again, trying to pretend that this is not real. Going at it like all the facts before me mean nothing. Harry called me mum. I see my eyes on my face. I read that book last night that said Lily Potter.

"Harry." I turn to find Alice's son gazing at me. He fiddles a bit with his bed hangings. "Are you okay? You look a bit frazzled. You're not letting those rumors get to you, are you?"

I raise Harry's eyes. Rumors. I'm beginning to hate that word. All anyone in this time seems to want to talk about the latest rumor. These people must be completely bored, or something.

Yet, this boy appears so caring, smiling hesitantly like Alice would when she wants to comfort someone. It wouldn't hurt to express a bit of my pain to him.

"I just realized something I didn't want to realize and now that I realized it I don't want it realized." I lay a cold hand on Harry's forehead. Like always, I can't find the words to explain myself. This time no vomiting is preventing me. Only I am preventing myself from making sense.

"Hard to explain." Alice's son nods, his bucktooth sticking out of his mouth. "I get it. You don't have to explain."

"I don't want it to be true," I gasp out. I want him to know what I'm trying to say. "You see, I hate knowing something so outlandish could come true."

That's it. I can't imagine myself lowering my standards to the pit of an ocean to have a son with a boy who hurt an old friend of mind. Its ridiculous to find that in a few years I may have a relationship with an egotistical boy who believed himself better than me and never once tried to understand who I am.

Alice's son is still standing by his bed, waiting patiently for me to continue or maybe leave him be. "I'm sorry. I don't really know what I'm getting at. I appreciate you listening to my big mouth."

I really do. It's usually Alice and I venting together. We would override each other every second, leading to a loud mass of two voices that annoyed my ears. Gosh, my ears must hate me. Those storms often lead to a frustrated Marlene forcing us to stop speaking.

"It was nice to talk." Alice's son grins. "You spend so much time with Ron and Hermione, I…" He shuts his mouth quickly in alarm.

"You, what," I ask. I move to stand next to him. His abrupt stop made me curious. "I won't judge, promise."

He shakes his head and chews roughly on his lips. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course, it does. What you want matters?" Why is Alice's son so secretive? Alice must have scared him with her stories of all the times vindictive girls told her secrets. The Flap-a-dill one was the most recent. In it, Potter and his gang stuck dill pickles under her shirt during dinner and later forced her to dance with the pickles falling on the floor in our dormitory. Piper Walker and Mary MacDonald promised not to tell anyone, but of course they did. Leaving poor Alice to cry all during her Charm's O.W.L.

"Like, I want to the Dancing Feet Spell to be outlawed. And you want …" I look at him expectantly.

"I. Well. I want." He stammers. "For. Er. I like this. I like us talking."

"Oh, you want for Harry, I mean me to be your friend."

He blushes nervously. "I don't want to get in the way of you three."

"You can't!" I exclaim. "You just need to stop being so hard at yourself. I like you." And based on you acting so friendly with me, I'm sure Harry likes you too.

Alice's son grins bashfully. I'm pleased to see he accepted my words.

"Aargh. Neville, get away from him. He's possessed by You-Know-Who." A sandy-haired boy howls as he runs over to us. "Get out, You-Know-You. I won't let you kill me like you did Cedric."

What is he talking about? I thought You-Know-Who was dead. That's what the history book I read said. But did Harry kill someone? That doesn't match the scared boy I met for a second. Okay, that second didn't show much. I know his father. The loon who finds thrill through hexing people, who says his son wouldn't kill.

"He didn't do kill Cedric," Alice's son defends Harry, shaking a bit nervously. He shifts to tell me. "That's the latest gossip, people are saying…"

The sandy-haired boy interrupts him, "You possessed Harry Potter. Please, don't murder me, now that I know."

"It's a lie," Alice's son snaps. "I don't want to do this, Seamus, but you need to stop believing the worst in Harry."

"Oh, Neville, whatcha going to do? Poor another failed potion over me?" Seamus snorts.

"Hey," I snap. "That's not nice. If you don't like me, fine, but don't ridicule my friend."

I hate it when entitled boys ridicule other boys about their failures. Why can't they understand we're all only human?

"I don't want to start a scene." Neville gazes back and forth between us. "Maybe its best…"

"…if I leave," I finish for him. I glare at Seamus before I exit the dorm. There's no point in fighting with that tosser.

Yet, nothing stops me from eavesdropping. Its not like I'm going to use what I hear against them. Leaning against the dorm's door, I hear Alice's son say quietly, "You can't believe that, Seamus? Harry's Harry and he would never…"

"Of course not. I know he's not possessed by You-Know-Who. But you heard what he said about my mother."

So Seamus's accusation comes from some bad words between Harry and Seamus, not from any real conviction. That's a relief. I can't imagine continuing this act all alone with the knowledge that I'm in a murderer's body.

Anyways, I should look for Ron and Hermione. I need to see if they figured out anything about the possession problem and maybe learn about the whole Cedric murder. It's been forever since I last saw them. Last night, when I returned from trying to help Regulus, they quickly left with the prefect duty excuse. I wouldn't be surprised if they wanted to get kinky without a third wheel. Patricia Hensen and Tyler Abbot often used that excuse to do their thing.

Its now an hour later and I still haven't found them. Ugh. Everyone I asked had no clue or rushed by me with frightened expressions. Great, Harry's now a social pariah and I have to deal with all its horrors. There are only so many hateful stares I can take. Maybe, I should succumb to more hours in the library alone searching for answers. Nah, I decide, I'm tired of that. If only I could chat with Alice and Marlene. But no, they're not…

Holy shite, I spend all this time checking every single hallway for them and I find them when I'm not even trying. Okay, I only looked at the regular Hogwart's hangouts, but still.

Ron and Hermione come over to me. Hermione smiles gently while Ron scowls. I wonder what I did to make him mad.

"We need to talk to you," Ron snaps.

I begin to answer when Hermione says, "Not here though, Umbridge might come by here. We're going to a classroom we practiced in last year."

I follow them, but still ask, "What's this about? Did I do something wrong?"

"You better hope not." Ron glances back at me, his eye's fierce. "I mean, you're fine with me if Hermione's right."

Is he convinced Harry murdered the Cedric guy? And Hermione must have proof that's not true. That must be it.

"I am," Hermione grumbles. "Come on, in here."

She quickly enters into an empty classroom. The room is filled with the typical remnants of leftover quills and ripped robe pieces. I recognize Professor McGonagall's small pillow where she sometimes rests on in her cat form during breaks. I'm one of the few people she told about her private activity. I think it's cute.

Hermione leads us to some chairs in the middle of the room. Once were settled, Hermione explains, "We know the truth. We, er, realized it last night. After you left, we followed you and listened to your conversation."

"Oh," I gasp, amazed that I didn't notice them following me. "I didn't even notice."

Hermione gives out a light chuckle. "We're now pretty good at following people."

"Yeah." Ron smiles suddenly. "And then I learned Hermione already knew something I tried to get you to saw yesterday."

Hermione shakes her head, grinning. "I still can't believe you thought I made all that murtlap for house-elves."

"You made all those bloody hats for them," Ron retorts, raising his hands in fake despair. "What was I suppose to think?"

"Well, I would think you would actually tell me about what Umbridge was doing way before the whole possession mess. But no, you kept silent."

"Harry wanted me to."

They both stare intensely at each other and I can't stand it. So good they realized I'm not Harry, but I need them to help me, not bicker.

"Quit it," I yell at them. "So you two have some communication issues, so what. I think the whole body swapping issue is more important."

I'm pretty sure Harry and Ginny are in Regulus's and my body. It's what I hope for, anyways. I simply can't think about the possibility they are now stuck in their minds. That would be too cruel.

"Ginny's right." Hermione flips her head to look at me. "We have a more serious problem."

Ron grimaces, now watching me closely. "You are Ginny, right? And Ginny's Harry?" There is a harsh pleading in his voice that makes me wish I could say what he wanted.

"Actually." I feel a tightening sensation sizzle throughout the body I'm in. I hate feeling this nervous. "I'm not. Do you both remember the name I told you?"

Ron jumps up. His chair slams to the ground behind him. "Do you mean some random boy is in my sister right now? Doing Merlin knows what?"

"Ron," Hermione shouts. "Calm down."

He turns to Hermione, his hands shaking. "You told me I was wrong. It was just Harry in my sister, but no. I can't believe you. All morning_ I_ _told you_ …"

With that Ron stomps out of the room, glaring once at me.

"Great." Hermione sniffs and her eyes burn red. "Stay here, I'll deal with him and you're friend. Don't worry about it. I'll figure it out."

"No," I insist, following her as she rushes after Ron. I can see him at the end of the corridor. No matter what, I will follow her. This is as much my problem as it is theirs. "You need my help. The guy possessing Harry is actually not my friend, but I know him."

"Just stay here, okay." Hermione walks even faster and then runs after Ron. I run alongside her. Thankfully, she's not too fast.

"Where do you think he's going?" I ask. By now she must understand I'm not giving in.

Hermione groans and stops suddenly. "Look, I don't need you to pretend to be my friend anymore."

Those words hurt. Its like I'm on top of a snowy mountain with the wind blowing against my face.

"I tried to tell you both, but you saw what happened, I kept vomiting instead."

Hermione sighs. "I know you didn't mean to, but that doesn't really matter to me. I don't want your help, all right?"

"I.." I start to say something, but then I notice she is no longer listening.

She stares straight ahead to the corridor before us and clenches her hands. "Look what you done, now I lost him."

And I can't imagine how bad the confrontation between Ron and Regulus will be. From what I heard, Regulus has done some nasty shite. Ron won't know what hit him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter World. **

Ch. 10- Ginny

I have a current irritation with just about everything.

It might be because of that disgusting smell coming from whatever those two girls are puffing over by the oak tree. Or maybe it's the fact that this Owl guy is following me everywhere and is not the most exciting conversationalist. Or maybe it's the fact Madam Pomfrey acted like a snappy mold-rat and refused to let me in the Hospital Wing to visit Greengrass. Or maybe it's the fact that Greengrass boy stared at me in the hallway as if I was a freak. Or maybe it's the fact that I really want to piss sitting down. Or maybe it's the fact that I really want to talk to my friends and brothers about whatever. Or maybe it's the fact I just want to lie on a bed and curl all night next to the black dog that decided to follow me again when Owl and I went outside. Make that forever if a cat joined in.

Yeah, that would be excellent. A far better situation than listening to those girls complain nearby or to Owl bother me about our prank planning.

Here's the enlightening conversation between the girls.

"I'm tired. My roots are far too rumpy. Can you past me a new fag already? This one giving me a headache."

"Deal with it. The rest are in the dorm and I really don't want to deal with the needy twit right now. Did you here what she called me? Barmy lunatic she was. And its not like I don't feel guilty enough."

"Bloody kidding me, you nutter. It's got nothing to do with our thing. Come on, I'm so tired. Light it again and just crash them all in your bag next time. What's wrong with you? Mick, seriously."

"Everything. My face refuses to turn yellow. My hair itches like crazy. Why does my skin have to be so oily? Got any powder."

"Dammit. Forgot it upstairs."

"Mandrake shrivels."

Woes to you, whoever you are. Its not like it's not a beautiful day outside and you've got nothing to worry about beyond school.

And here's Owl's wise input on pranking. "Let's prank you brother tomorrow morning."

I reply, completely amazed, "No, let's wait. Stop acting like a dimwit. Everyone knows to never discuss pranks outside the dorm where any troll could hear us."

Really, Owl, how dumb are you?

"What are you planning to do with that dog?" Owl decides to change the conversation around, most likely to not have to deal with another deprecating remark. Or maybe it's his quenching curiosity.

The dog appeared by our side about a half-hour ago after I decided I wanted to spend the afternoon outside now that classes were finished, like most of the other students.

"Return it to Hagrid's." I rub the dog's head. "Boomerang needs his master."

Owl starts laughing. "Boomerang, really. Where you get a name like that?"

I move to flick my hair over my shoulder before I remember Regulus's hair is too short to work with my typical fidgeting method. "Isn't it Hagrid's?"

"Nope. The giant's dog is way smaller and why would you want to meet that monster?"

I shrug, asking him right back defensively "Why wouldn't you want to say 'Hi' to Hagrid? He's a pretty friendly bloke."

"He's a giant." Owl exclaims. I hate the hateful tone in his voice. "Are you –"

"Half-giant," I brusquely interrupt him. Really, can't people get their facts straight before they judge somebody?

"Insane?" Owl finishes, shaking his head all over the place. "What's up with you Reg? Just the other day we were cheering Mulciber and Avery on about their Giant thing."

I shrug my shoulders and blurt, noticing something foul, "It smells awful here." Like that irksome, decaying fungus in the Burrow's garden.

"You can't talk to Greengrass. That's why you're all buggered," Owl concludes, ignoring what I said. "Know what? Let's blast that door wide open, force Pompusfries to let us in!"

As great as that sounds, I'll rather just wait to talk to Greengrass and return this loveable dog back to his owner first. "Maybe, later. First, I want to give this dog to Hagrid. I hate to think how worried his owner must be." I clasp my hands on both sides of the dog's chin, letting its drool to slide on my hands and grin. It's so cute.

Owl watches me with gaping eyes and rubs the dog's back. "Or maybe it's the gossip about your love affair with Lily Evans."

"Its not that. I don't have feelings for her. All I did was talk to her." And had the only enjoyable conversation I had in this time period.

"I know. I know. Your all for Peneus." Owl tickles the dog's ears and murmurs, "Maybe we should keep him. He'd be our mascot."

And then the dog wiggles out of Owl's grip, grunting loudly. We both start laughing as the dog races away to a far off tree to lick some girls lounging around. We watch for the dog for a bit until one of the complaining girls nearby yells so loud that even Owl is forced to mind it, "It's all your fault. Mick, what am I…"

"No it isn't. Stop worrying, really. I'm so finished with you. Every single day…."

I don't notice what the girl responds with next because at that moment I realize Owl's face had darkened. His teeth now stick out like a vampire, clenching sharply on his tongue. In a flash, he struts to the girls. He probably didn't notice the girls when we arrived and now recognized one. I move to sneak away – I really want some time alone (ironic, I know) – but Owl growls to me. "Help me, please."

Maybe it would be better to make sure this doesn't become a fight. I know how bad they can get and I can relieve some of my irritation through telling those girls to stop being so shallow. And my new resolve to stay thickens when I notice the girls' Gryffindor robes. Fights may be bad, but anything between Gryffindors and Slytherins is true horror. I don't ever want to think about the state Astoria and I ended up in after our latest fight.

"Hey Micky," Owl cries. "I seem to recall that you said you would stop using muggle rubbish."

It's hard to discern the differences between the girls. They're both blond with long hair straight down their shoulders and far too thin figures. I guess one has a slightly darker shade and that one responds, "Oh leave her alone, bigot. I'm so tired of you crap. If you ever had a fag, you'll realize this muggle rubbish would actually make you cool and not the droopy loser you are."

"I've got this, Mary." The other girl snaps and turns to us. "Look, I'm not interested in a repeat of last year. Can we agree to just leave each other alone instead of you trying to prove stupid dragon dung?"

The dog, which returned without me noticing to lean on my leg, gives a strange bark, almost like a laugh. A very jittery one and unlike one I heard from a dog before. More like the one Harry's godfather Sirius made last summer when his mother's portrait called me a whore. No surprise, both the portrait weren't happy with the hex I gave them. Really, sometimes I wish guys wouldn't laugh at girls being insulted by women.

"Maybe we will," I respond. The memory of Sirius laughing at me explodes my earlier irritation about these girls' having the carefree life I want. "Once you girls stop being such bores."

"We're talking about our right to respect muggle inventions." Mary swings her arms in the air and suddenly I feel awful. I forgot for a moment that while I was dealing with the type of girls I hate, they actually were making the right point. "There far better than those stupid wizbees you Magicals throw around and that god awful cream soda you drink."

"Soda?" Owl's eyes widen and he chafes his hands against his legs. "We don't drink that muddy fizzing drink."

"You call it Butterbeer," Mary shares flatly.

The dog is now shaking like crazy and refuses my attempts to calm it. I'm a bit worried and try again, rubbing the dog's front paws against my hands while Owl and the girls continue arguing.

"Oh, quit it." The girl name Mick slams her wand in Owl's face. "Just admit your stinking traitor and that I never said ever that I agree with you."

"That be pretty hard to say since we used to agree about everything until my lovely family deemed my house unacceptable." Owl's voice is now hoarse and I can't help pity him based on his new revelation.

I always knew I could count on my family, no matter how much they irritated me. And even though Percy hates me and everyone else in our family now, I know his reasons are not because of something as vague like a dormitory. I admit I find what most Slytherins do revolting, but I can't imagine hating a family member because of their house.

"And you, you need to stay away from Lily." Mick thrusts over to me. Her tall, skinny frame sweats closely and I can feel her hot breath stinking over me.

"I... I… can do whatever I want," I snap back, buggered at how she feels she can control what I do. I can do whatever the shrewt-gas I want. And I want to know is why people keep thinking Regulus Black likes Harry's mother.

"Leave. Her. Alone. She doesn't need any more crap from you people."

Low voices of various students now surround our group. I recognize some Slytherins from the group who attacked that Greengrass girl. I grip Regulus's wand tightly and prepare for an attack. However, the people just whisper to each other, with bouncing feet, clearly ready for more show.

Mick's face pales as she notices the crowd and she backs away from me, still glaring, but also shaking from embarrassment. She rushes to grip Mary's hand and whispers in the other girl's ear and then tells Owl, "Martin, I'm sorry. We really need to talk more. I don't. Really. I don't like this. Us not accepting each other any more."

"Oh, please." Owl turns to walk away. "Don't act like you care and don't you ever threat my roommate again."

While Owl speeds away, I say one last thing to Mick, "You don't need to worry. I won't hurt her. Plus, I only talked to her once."

She bites her lip and snarls something I ignore, choosing instead to go away from this angry girl. I need to get away before I change this scene to something dreadful. I can feel my temper rising far too high.

When I reach Owl again, he grumbles in my ear, "Can't believe had that discussion again. Reign me in next time."

"Sure," I reply, then blurt. "This happens often, huh?"

Owl lifts his eyebrows. "You know that."

Oh, right. Note to self; never mention again something that implies I don't know something that happened before. "Just saying. Its really irritating."

Owl smiles. "Extremely."

"Hey, I'm talking to you." Mick bangs her way in between us and waves her hand in Owl's face. "Are you going to pretend -?" She ends her sentence with a brisk sigh that covers her final word.

"Yes." Owl starts to walk away once again, scowling because of whatever word she sighed, and ignoring the girl's next irritable words, when we all hear a high squeal and a blaring thump.

I can't help but re-imagine the moment this morning when that Greengrass girl dropped to the ground after those Slytherins attacked her. Was it happening again to another defenseless person?

I skirt around people also interested in knowing what's going on. After bumping through what felt like hundreds of people, I finally saw what happened. It wasn't a person who hurt another this time.

A large tree rattled branches as if it was laughing at the world around it. The Whomping Willow swaggers its one large branch in the middle to bobbed up and down like a subject providing deference to its lord. A boy's body lay beneath it. A bloody stick grazed out of the boy's left socket. As I watched blood dripped further to the ground from the stick and create a swooshing puddle by the boy's cheek, all I could hear was the shaking whining of dying roosters.

555

_"Coo-Coo," Hagrid is shouting while his long hair of spider webs bundles in various directions. His monstrous scowl slams close over me. "I called her that before, you know. Such a cuddly little rooster. There's not day go by that I don't miss that little bugger. The rest too. All sweet, defenseless, animals, yuh know. They would've lived long, waking me up every day for few years. But nothing goes right anymore."_

Nothing is right. For what feels like hours now after one rooster squeals its dying breath in my mind, another begins. It refuses to budge its angry reminder that I killed it. And Hagrid yells by it, to remind me I stopped those poor animals from enjoying their life with Hagrid. All because I trusted someone who I once thought to be my friend.

For years know, these roosters have haunted my mind whenever I see blood since I escaped the chamber. It reminds me that I'm an animal slaughterer. The dog that follows me now deserves a better person to follow. Crookshanks should never curl underneath my bed when Hermione shares my room during the summer. The owls that I sit with in the Owelry when I need time alone should swat me with sharp nails instead of hooting joyfully at my presence.

Where are you Michael? Where are you to remind me that all my self-hating thoughts are ridiculous? I need you to tell me that a cute, spunky girl like me deserves all the love from every animal in the world. That I'm in no way like that psychopath.

Coo-Coo. Michael. Tom. Tom. Tom.

Tom, why can't I be ignorant again of what you did? What I did.

_"I wish Coo-Coo could be with us today." Hagrid is now yelling. A rooster stands behind him, with its skeleton-framed beak flaring and ready to attack. "She would love this clear, cool night and to see you finally falling apart, V-V-Voldemort."_

555

When Owl zaps me awake with a stinging hex the next morning, concern leaks from his eyes, but he leaves me to wake up another roommate. I wonder what I must have looked like during my minutes locked in a nightmare. Those minutes where I remember that I am still affected by the knowledge that I once was Voldemort's body to possess for whatever he wants.

I stretch the tired body and crack its knuckles hard and leave to take a shower. When the water starts heating over me, I hope I would feel some peace, but instead my mind goes over and over again about last night.

It's strange to think that what felt like hours were only a few minutes. Last night, Owl kept watching me closely, and asking me questions about what happened and if I was all right. He finally left me alone after I explained that I experienced minutes of shock because of the sight of the blood. And afterwards, I struggled to sleep. The type of insomnia where my head would heat up no matter what direction I slept. During each hour of restlessness, I strained my head over and over again; trying for the upmost time to remember the memories Tom took from me.

But the worst part is the guilt still chewing me up inside. Until last night's reminder of Tom's possession, I could ignore what I was doing, the fact that I was taking over someone else's life. But now I can't help but feel that I am worse then Tom. He, at least, only took some hours out of my day. He didn't control my every interaction, like I am doing with Regulus.

I can pinch his swanky arms and rub his flat chest with soap, like a creeper. If I wanted to I could open my eyes and see his whole naked body. I could use his body as I wished and he can't do a thing. This is absolutely disgusting. I need to have clothes back on and not feel the urge anymore to look. At the same time, I hate how this body still stinks up. Determined to smell better, I continue the shower and try to think of something else.

But there is nothing to think about besides what Regulus will wonder about the day he wakes up and finds his whole world different because of what I had done as him. Will he hate that people believe that he's in love with a muggle-born? Will he try to hurt those who started the gossip? Would he be heartbroken that he didn't experience the Quidditch game last Saturday?

Yet, what can I do? I can't disappear as him, or he'll wake up to discover a worse reality than the one I woke up to at the end of my first year. I can't say what I don't believe and act exactly like a Slytherin Pureblood Prince, or I won't know who I am anymore. I can't do a thing but act as who I am and hope I discover a solution.

After my shower, I am resolved to find a solution today and end this guilty chopping my mind. But when I return to the room, Owl and Regulus's three other roommates, wave me over to where they were whispering near the wall. There's Wilkies, I think that's his name, from lunch yesterday. I don't recall the other two roommates' names at all. One has a nose shaped like one of those round things that Dad likes to play with. I think Hermione said they hold muggle clothes together with a clasp. What'd she call them again? Ruttons, fluttons, bluttons, duttons. Yes duttons! The other has a short mustache he keeps rubbing.

For a moment, I think about ignoring them, but I don't want to act rude. Especially after Owl chose to honor the alone time I wanted last night.

Anyways, Owl, Wilkies and the dutton-shaped nose boy are deep in conversation, while the last goofily tries to make his mustache curve in funny directions. Owl smiles when I come up and shares, "They're all in."

"What?" I exclaim, unsure of what he was talking about.

"Prank." Owl scratches his head. "You know the thing you were so excited for yesterday."

"Oh, yeah, right," I reply, not really caring. When I first thought about the prank yesterday, I looked forward to it. I had planned to go to the House, what my friends and I call the greenhouse we sometimes hang out in, later in the week to figure out which plants would work best for the prank. But now, I couldn't help but feel disinterested.

I can't even feel amused when the roommate with a dutton-shaped nose yells a flamboyant battle cry, "Today is the day we finally show those fuckers what we got. Those fools have nothing to our excellent skill, Purebloodness, unity and spirit."

"Yeah!" The other two roommates besides Owl shout their agreement, comically pumping their fists in the air.

"After I heard Black's wonderful idea to use plants," Owl explains, gesturing to me. "I decided to snipe these little buggers from the Greenhouse."

He pulls out two small plants that he had apparently hid behind his bum. While I'm pretty sure Neville and Bella have told me about every plant imaginable numerous times when we hang out in the House, my typical lackluster interest in what they babbled made me unable to identify what they are. Times like these I wished I chose to listen to their plant descriptions instead of talking to the Hailey, Sarah, Joel and the rest of my non-Herbology nut friends.

Anyways, each of Owl's plants contained a black slug-shaped thing that popped over five rounded leaves. One shriveled with grayish leaves, but otherwise both plants looked healthy.

"Bubotuber, snatched them last night," Owl says proudly. "We're thinking we should will accidently squeeze them with their elbows and bang the pus will be all over them."

"Suppose to be really nasty," the mustached boy shares with a startling deep voice.

"Very."

And soon the roommates were discussing the nastiest things they ever seen. I ignored most of it, itching to visit the library. I heard to many of these types of conversations in my life. I will never understand why my brothers think discussing the misadventures of urine and dropping wax fascinating.

Suddenly I feel something slimy drop in my hands. The plant, whatever it's called. Owl looks at me, waiting for me to say something.

"What?" Can't he see I was busy thinking?

"Care doing the honors?" Owl juggles the other plant in his hands.

That doesn't sound to bad and as soon as I'm done with this prank I can focus on what's important.

When I open my mouth, the dutton-shaped nose boy pulls on Owl's sleeve and asks eagerly, "Can we fight now?"

The mustached boy nods furiously as if he was a dog begging for permission to BM.

"Sure, sure." Owl dismisses them to fight and then tells me, "We're doing it this morning so I need you to scout the area and make sure they come to their usually place."

"Do you think just dripping them will work? They'll know we're behind it?" Wilkies jumps in to ask.

"That's why I told you we'll be disillusioned." Owl rolls his eyes.

"Awk, that hurts," a voice screams in the background.

"Takunga!" Another voice yells. A person falls to the ground and then, "Stupefy! Tricked ya."

"But what about the bobo's?" Wilkies asks. "How will I know how to squeeze them if they are invisible."

"They won't be invisible then." Owl clenches his fists, annoyed.

"He has a point." I can't believe I didn't think about the whole problem with his plan when I first heard about it. "People will go crazy if they happen to see plants suddenly whizzing around. I would certainly go bonkers if one moment nothing is behind me and then the next a disgusting plant is closing in on my hair. Plus, people eat really close to each other. And its not like we can make sure we won't get caught doing this with our hands. It lacks a certain not getting caught technique. Like the enough distance one."

The twins always know to make sure the prank happens far from where they are standing.

"I know. I know," Owl screams, tears of anguish gliding down his cheeks. "I know, this is the worst prank plan in all of prank plans. But what am I suppose to do after you went bonkers last night Black, and Wilkes wants to chat with that Puffer and the other two just want to watch, and after I promised, like a Mudblood moron, Mulciber, Avery and Snape we'll give them a show this morning? What … am … I… suppose… to… do?

Classy, very classy. Who knew someone could make a fit as bad as Ron? Owl's situation may be bad, but its not one that deserves hysterics.

But I do understand. From my one experience with Mulciber and Avery, I know I don't want to be on their bad side, especially Mulciber's. And I know from experience that Snape is the nastiest person alive. I might as well help Owl. And I now recall that Hermione told me these plants leave a great mess, so it should be fun to see Pettigrew whine about it. Its not like the bobotubers will leave the Marauders in pain. I'm pretty sure Hermione said she was fine after cleaning up.

So, all in all, this should be a fun distraction.

"Sheesh." I stare him down. "This isn't the worst that could have happen. I've got a better plan."

At least I hope I will by the time I enter the Great Hall.

555

And, of course, I enter the Great Hall with a plan that is doomed for failure, or at least detention.

And, of course, I decided to cut my losses and do Owl's plan.

And, of course, Owl decided to wimp out at the last moment, like a typical Slytherin, and asked me to do all the heavy lifting.

And, of course, I never back down from a challenge.

Even though I'm surely going to fall into a pit of snakes, otherwise known as Mulciber, Avery and Snape's fury, after I fail this prank.

And so, disillusioned and carefully holding the invisible boboturds, or whatever they're called, I wander to my beloved house table and search for Sirius Black and Harry's father. Instead all I see are random strangers eating along the table. Where Hailey and Sarah sit, are two guys throwing hash browns on unsuspecting Ravenclaw firsties. Where the twins and Lee Jordan joke around, are those girls from yesterday fighting with an owl that is trying to attack a redheaded girl. Where I sometimes join Neville are two boys yawning. Where Dean and Seamus chat are...

Wait a minute. One of those boys in Neville's usual place looks vaguely familiar. His light brown hair and ragged cloak are so similar to someone I know, I just can't think of whom. He must be one of Dad's ministry friends or a member of the Order or a teacher. A memory comes to me then. A man with torn robes helps me up after I'm lost in bloodstained memories and he gently…

Oh, right. He looks like Remus Lupin. Suddenly, I see little marks on the boy I now walk towards that correspond to the man I know. The lines of his brows crinkle like Lupin did during the mornings we ate breakfast together and his shoulders are slanted uptight like Lupin's always were. Sirius and Harry's father must be there soon. And next to him is Pettigrew. No one else can look that awful. (Well, maybe Snape) This is perfect. I can cover that rat with some messy pus first. Scare that traitor out.

Gleefully, I rush by some students heading to the table. I hear a person shriek behind me. I might have accidently knocked someone down. But that doesn't matter. I can taste the rush I will feel after finally pranking Pettigrew for causing Ron's nightmares and betraying Harry's parents.

I let out a sigh of relief when I stand behind Pettigrew, who is eating a large plain biscuit, like a greedy ogre. Quickly, I make the plant visible, so I can see the black bulb. I squeeze it tight and soon the puss squirts out and runs along Pettigrew's back.

His scream brings relief to my ears. The pain I was feeling all morning relaxed because I accomplished revenge against a brat who lived his life selfish and only himself. I know its bad of me to wish pain on others, but it feels so good to hurt that rat.

Pettigrew is grunting now, waving his hands in the air, and people crowd around him. They are yelling and I hate it. I hate the sound of Pettigrew choking. Oh, sheesh, he's falling to the ground and groaning like a dying troll.

A loud voice yells, "Breathe into him. I saw it in a film. And slap him on the back. It'll stop it."

"No. No," another voice cries. "That only works on the drowned. You need thrust his neck upwards.

"Your both wrong. But what can one expect from Mudblood twats," a third voice complains. "Do that red spell, it get the blasted thing out."

Merlin. Is he choking? Did I…?

"Out of my way," a strict voice orders. Professor McGonagall beckons students to let her past.

Sirius and Harry's father follow after her, dragging Owl between them. When she reaches Pettigrew, Professor McGonagall releases a red spell and a large chuck of saliva covered gruel pop outs of Pettigrew's mouth.

Thank goodness. For a second I thought I killed him.

But the relief doesn't last for long because I suddenly feel like a layer of my skin was peeled off. Merlin, the disillusionment charm, its no longer on me. Sirius rushes to start throttling me.

"How dare. How dare you?" He throws me onto the ground and people are screaming, laughing and cheering.

All the while my head screams, 'Merlin. Merlin. Merlin.'

"Mr. Black, calm yourself." Professor McGonagall lowers a hand gently on his shoulder. "Let him go."

"Pete. He tried to kill Pete." Light tears spill down his face.

Behind him I see, Professor McGonagall and Harry's father glaring, Owl grinning and Lupin gulping. And where I am, I feel like I need to explain myself. Do something to not feel guilty.

"I…" I hate the squeaking sound that comes when I try to speak. I'm not a rat. "I…"

"Mr. Black," a chubby man comes to me and frowns. "I don't know what you were thinking, pulling a stunt like that."

"Horace," Professor McGonagall tells him. "You need to bring to the Headmaster." And to me she says bitterly, "I'm really disappointed in you and Mr. Snowyowl. What were you thinking?"

"He's a Slytherin. They live to hurt people like that," Harry's father shouts, his teeth clenched. .

"It was only supposed to be messy," I try to explain. But no one listens. Harry's father and Sirius all glare at me. Professor McGonagall moves to comfort Pettigrew, careful to not touch the pus spreading down his shirt. Owl shakes and stares at the other side of the room. The man name Horace just drags me out of the room, refusing to look at me.

'Breathe in. Breathe out.' I command myself.

Relax. I need to relax.

This is not the worst thing I ever done.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does.**

Ch. 11: Regulus

Throughout my time at Hogwarts, my favorite memories were always when I could read alone in the magnificent library. It was the one place where I could relax and forget about social rules and politics. The one place my brother and his group of miscreants thankfully never intruded, even for a prank.

However, I discovered that more people seem to call it home in this time period. The Ravenclaws rather brave the world more in this time, instead of hiding in their common room. Weasley's Gryffindor friends like it as well as they kept asking to join me. Like I need those giggling girls who stayed up all night talking about nothing. When I visited this morning, the bushy-haired girl and Weasley boy decided to bother me with meaningless girl rattled on about her complaints about some Professor Umbridge - most likely the devious toad-like woman - and the boy kept going on and on about some lousy family trip to Egypt. aS if I cared about how some blood traitor's own brothers locked him in a pyramid.

Eventually, I gave up on finding any time alone in the library and came to this nice basement classroom near my house's common room. The walls were perfectly green and the glass window allowed me to see the deep blue of the Great Lake where underwater creatures like grindylow periodically came and went. I found it in my second year when Sirius and Potter chased me around Hogwarts as they attempted to make my skin turn bright red and my hair orange like they did to the other Slytherins in my year.

While I lack the skill to ward people off in a small area in a large room like the library, I am familiar with the runes to ward off an enclosed space like this room. Which is just grand. I'm beyond thrilled that I can work to the rhythmic beating sounds from the current from the water bumping against the window.

The desk near me contains the books and newspapers I already read this afternoon. The news articles from the Prophet were very dull and bias, but greatly informative of the current states of affairs. The books either told myths of possessions or contained the laminated research on what other magical folk like goblins discovered on methods of possessions. so far, none were helpful to my current predicament.

_The Legend of the Host of Coralyle_ presents a ridiculous hoax on how some Mudblood named Darren Coralyle possessed Helena Ravenclaw, the daughter of the great Rowena Ravenclaw, to force her to transfer various of her Pureblood friend's magic reserves to several Mudbloods in order to make those abominations more powerful. The Coralyle spirit, according to the myth, caused Mudbloods to gain superiority over Purebloods. Like those weak fools could ever do that.

The books on various possessions throughout history are all full of similar ridiculous notions. Each one contains numerous amounts of obvious holes that make me wonder how anyone can find these books valid.

After a few hours of no answers, I decided to look up ideas stemming from various conversations with my family that referenced possession. Like when Bella told me that the creators of the Imperius Curse actually wanted to posses others for brief periods of time, not to force others to their will. Sadly, the passage about the Imperius Curse's relationship with possession only mention how the test subjects kept vomiting after a few minutes of possessions and glowed violet.

Still, the books may prove useful in the future. It would be best to hide them in this room. Its good happenstance that I know about the secret cupboard hidden in the wall. It's very difficult to open because it needs a very specific tapping rhythm to open in up. I still can't believe I actually discovered the right pattern. It was a complete accident and it took me several more tries to replicate it.

I tap the wall three times with two passes in between, then eight times quickly and once more. The wall remains steady.

Great.

I try agin, slower this time. More focused on counting under my breath the steps between the first three taps. For a moment it looks like I failed again, but then the wall budged open.

After I place all the articles and books in the cupboard and close it tight, I feel ready for another trip to the library.

555

As I walk pass the Great Hall, Aa group of girls head to me. The one in front waves at me, her straight auburn hair bobbing up and down. Is that Nick Brody's daughter? The snooty Ravenclaw bloke who repeatedly said I would never beat him in dueling until the day I knocked him down to chomp on his knickers.

"Hey, whoever or water." Likely Brody's daughter greets. Its weird to see these people so into the possession rumour. The people I know in my time would likely laugh the rumour off as impossible. "We've been wanting to talk to you for days."

"Yeah. Why you want to posses Weasley of all people. Her family is dirt poor," asks another girl.

"Lisa." Likely Brody's daughter frowns, playing a bit with a strand of her red hair. "We just want to know how long we'll have to wait until the redhead wonder returns. I really need to hear what she thinks about my new look."

"Susan you really need to stop caring. Weasley lacks any sense of fashion."

"She so does. She made Granger the angel she was last year."

"No that was Pavarti." The redhead's friend retorts.

"Well at the very least she turned Hailey's awful trim to something good," a third girl states quietly.

"Yes. I enjoyed doing all that," I lie. "The rumours swindling about are completely untrue."

"Please." I'm now tired of counting all the girls bugging me right now, so lets say a previously quiet girl is now talking. "Like Ginny would ever wear her hair like that."

"I just broke up with that book. Right now I am trying to recover." That should be a reasonable enough excuse. They were the words Cissy used after all her break-ups so its definitely girlish enough.

Likely Brody's daughter nods, her expression loosening to a friendly smile. "Oh, Ginny. I can't believe I haven't ask y you about that yet. I've been awful recently, I know. But I really thought those rumours were true."

"They make awful sense," one of her friends interrupts. "Ginny would never miss a week from the House, you know that."

Great. They were likely more friends of the Weasely girl then. If they had a special meeting place together and all. "Trust me, I would be perfectly happy to join all of you there after I finish an assignment I'm working on."

The quicker I escape the girl the better.

"No. No. No. you have to come. Bella promised she would bring those wicked flowers she was talking about," Likely Brody's daughter insists.

"Susan," a girl glaring at me snaps. "Shut it. Like shite I believe that thing's rubbish. What people are saying makes total sense."

A different girl brings up thoughtfully, "or maybe Ginny is becoming an inferi. Maybe that's why she's been so zombie-lie this week. Are you? Please tell me I'm right!"

"Whatever you're hearing is wrong," I snap. "I'm acting different because I quit trying to be social all the time and decided to focus on more than stupid, worthless conversations with all of you. Go bother someone else."

I sprint past them and ignore their voices calling me back. All high-pitched and whiny.

Screw those girls and their rubbish gossip that is so close to the truth. I am tired of this. I spent ten minutes too long trying to act social. All I want is to be alone and read and think and not have to worry about saying the right thing or watch people's expressions or try to think about every aspect that makes a person different and other shite personable wizards think about.

Bloody Merlin, I miss those days where I could read while Kreacher cleaned and made me a snack. Those days were I never had to interact with girls and wish I was not bent and could find one attractive. This days it never mattered how abnormal I was. Those days I could pretend I belonged to this messed up reality called living.

"You." Someone grabs my arm, interrupting my thoughts of righteous outrage. "I want to talk to you."

"No," I immediately reply before noticing the glare from the boy holding me tightly. Ginny's brother who's friends with James Potter's spawn pushes me to the wall. I push him back, causing him to tumble backwards.

I see the girls I talked to before behind him. When we both glare at them, they all scatter like muggles, rushing off in random directions.

Meanwhile, I greet the blood traitor. "Hi, brother." That seems to be the easiest way to address him. Given I'm still clueless about his name."

"I know. I know you're not Ginny. I know you're possessing my sister." Sweat rolls down his robes as he heaves through his anger. Nasty bits of spit roll down his chin.

"Fine. You caught me." I'm too tired to lie again. Those girls wore me out. "Good for you. But can you please keep it quiet. The best way to handle this is to make sure it stays idle gossip and not fact."

We don't need people to start having proof of possessions at Hogwarts and start a school-wide panic.

"How dare ... Listen you ... Who do ... Get out of my sister." He throws his arms at me, scratching his own sister's arm. Guess the Gryffindor can't hold in his temper. What a surprise.

I take hold of his arm and press him against the wall with my right arm. I take out the Weasley girl's wand with my left hand and point it at his throat. "Now can you calm down and let me explain instead fighting like degenerate muggles."

He grimaces at me and spit flings from his growling mouth.

While disgusted, I continue on. "I'm not the biggest fan of muggle brutality, but I will bash your brain if you attack me again."

"And I will ruin your jaw if you don't free my sister now," he spits back.

"Tough luck. You'll have to go back to ..." and bam, vomit chugs out of my mouth. What the Salazar?

"Ew." The redhead steps back, cringes, and nose flaring from the foul stink it leaves.

I cringe as well. It tastes awful. I clean it off the girl's robes with a smooth Scourgify, but the taste remains. Was this a reaction to the wrong mind being in a body for far too long?

"Hem. Hem. What do we have here? A family feud, I presume?" The toad-like professor asks us. Her face beaming with interest.

"A small problem," I tell her, trying to sound unbothered. I don't need her to learn how to get under my skin. "We can handle it fine."

"I'm sure." She smiles. "Your brother Percy said you two might be misguided, but you do remain people worthy of my respect. He said you're both smart and greatly innovative. I'd hate for you two to prove him wrong."

"I'll try my best to abide to his gracious compliment."

"Oh, please," snaps the Weasley girl's brother. "He's a prat and I'd like nothing to do with you cat-obsessed menace to society."

The professor frowns, her expression turning into an exaggerated form of pity. Nodding towards me, she remarks, "I hope you'll talk some sense to your bother. I really hope the three of us can be friends."

The Weasley girl's bother struts over to her, soon towering over the stout woman. "Never you hag," he snarls.

Undisturbed, the professor tells him in a faux-sweet voice. "Let's see how you feel in a few weeks." She nods to herself. "Yes, that will work well. I'm sure you will see soon why it's best to be my friend."

Before the Weasley girl's brother could make an even bigger fool of himself, the brother's girlfriend comes over to us, her long hair pressed against her cheeks. The girl grimaces at the professor. A nasty one at that. Evans stands to the side and watches. "I'm really, really sorry. But you can't run off like that." She then turns to the professor who is watching the two of them closely. "Can I help you Professor Umbridge?"

"Not from you, dear. All I want is to make sure Mr. Weasley knows I'm here for him. I know its troubling having such a disturbed best friend. Anyways, I must be going. I do need to do my best to limit the gossip that is hurting you Ms. Weasley."

"Thank you." I smile. it's good to know a professor is helping me for once.

After the professor leaves, I tell Potter's friends, "Come with me. Lets talk this through privately."

Weasley's girlfriend nods politely and drags her boyfriend to follow me to a private room. Evans followed behind us, a good distance behind.

Once we were in the room, I tell them, "I see you two know the truth. I'm not going to deny it."

Weasley's girlfriend stares at me inquisitively and the red-head mutters under his breath.

"That's good," Evans remarks. "I told them it wasn't our fault, but they're still ..."

"Concerned," I interrupt her babbling. "I know." I turn to them. "There's not much I can tell you. I'm working on figuring out what happened and I'll fix this. Soon you can cuddle your sister or whatrever."

The bushy-haired girl laughs. "That sounds reasonable. And we'll do our best to tamper down the rumours, no matter how true they are."

"That's very helpful." She not too bad. For a Mudblood.

She smiles and turns to the redhead. "What to see if Fred or George are interested in flying."

He nods and wants me. "Don't you dare fool around with my sister's body."

I consider telling him I'm gay, but decide he deserves to worry a bit.

"If that's all, I got some researching to do."

The three nod and I leave the room, ecstatic for some time alone.

**AN- **

**Wow it has been a long time since I wrote this story. It was nice to go back into first person and to really get into the main plot of the story and into Regulus's struggle with social interactions. **

**I hope everyone enjoyed this ****chapter!**

**HappyTerrier**


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